.UNIVERSITY*  OP;CAH|^OFfNl  A. 

■   *         ■'        ■  .i 

V 

1  ROW  THi;    LIBkAI-'N 

BENJAMIJ^PAJRKE  AVERY. 

Gl^T  OF  MR^  AVERY. 

1    cssiotis  No.(o3op3^       Class  No.                   '* 

■■-■■V;4.<^5^^#4^ 


^yNIVERSlTVOFCAHFoi^NIA. 


I-'OAV  7HE   LlBk.' 


\PA,f?KE  AVERY. 

>v...Aveia;^      , 


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/^''i  ^¥7?^^(>l/ -.'lAyaAf^^/-/'/ ■  ^ 


RECOMMENDATIONS. 


Boston-,  December  1,  1868. 

Ml/  rtear  Sir,  —  I  have  read  -with  much  pleasure  and  interest  your  manuscript  on  the 
Fine  Arts,  and  hare  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  I  think  it  a  work  deserving  the  honors  of 
the  press,  and  that  it  would  be  well  received,  and  command  a  steady,  though  not  a  rapid 
sale. 

It  shows  a  wide  range  of  reading  and  observation,  the  fruits  of  which  are  presented  with 
good  judgment  and  good  taste.  It  has  the  merit  of  being  popular,  and  yet  not  superficial, 
and  thus  is  very  well  adapted  both  for  purposes  of  education  and  for  general  reading. 

I  do  not  know  of  any  work  in  the  language  that  fills  the  place  which  yours  is  intended 
tofill,anddoesfill  worthily  and  well.  Yours  truly,  G.  S.  HILLAKD. 

S.  P.  Long,  Esq. 


Cambridge,  January  26,  1869. 

My  dear  Sir,  —  It  has  given  me  very  great  pleasure  to  examine  the  manuscript  of  your 
work  on  Art.  It  seems  to  me  a  work  of  great  intrinsic  merit  and  value,  and  of  peculiar 
worth  to  the  public,  to  which  I  trust  it  will  soon  be  given,  inasmuch  as  it  fills  a  place  which 
is  filled  by  no  other  book  or  books  in  the  language,  within  my  knowledge. 

It  shows  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  whole  ground,  careful  reflection ,  discriminating 
taste,  and  a  just  appreciation  of  the  wants  which  it  is  designed  to  satisfy  It  will  be  of 
equal  value  as  a  text-book  for  high  schools  and  colleges,  and  as  a  book  for  the  general  read- 
ing of  persons  who  desire  information  on  subjects  connected  with  the  Fine  Arts.  At  the 
same  time,  if  enriched  (as  it  no  doubt  will  be)  with  an  adequate  Alphabetical  Index,  it  will 
take  its  place  on  the  shelves  of  libraries  as  a  reference  book  for  consultation  on  a  wide 
range  of  subjects.  I  am,  dear  sir,  very  sincerely  yours,  A.  P.  PEABODY. 

S.  P.  LoxG,  Esq. 


S    P.  LoxG,  Esq.  Bostox,  February  22, 1869.      \ 

Ml/  dear  Sir,  —  Having  examined  your  excellent  work  sufficiently  to  be  aware  of  its 
great  value,  I  need  only  say  that  I  heartily  concur  in  what  ha.«  been  said  in  regard  to  it  by 
Drs.  Peabody  and  Lothrop  and  Hon  Geo.  S.  Ilillard  :  and  I  would  add  that  I  believe  that 
any  person  who  should  carefully  read  it  would  so  understand  the  principles,  and  have  his 
eyes  opened  to  the  beauties  of  Art,  that  he  would  never  look  upon  a  picture,  a  statue,  or  a 
noble  building,  without  more  interest,  and  a  higher  power  of  appreciating  and  enjoying  it, 
than  he  possibly  could  have  if  he  had  not  read  your  book,  or  a  large  number  of  valuable 
ones  in  its  place. 

If  any  person  of  natural  taste,  about  to  travel  in  Europe,  should  ask  me  how  he  might 
best  prepare  himself  to  understand  and  enjoy  the  objects  of  high  Art  h^might  there  meet 
with,  I  should  say.  Read  attentively  Mr.  Long's  book  upon  the  subject  of  Art. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  very  respectfully  yours,  GEO.  B.  EMERSON. 


ii  EECOMMEXDATIOXS. 

S.  P.  Long,  Esq.  Boston,  November  19,  1S6S 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  have  read  lar^e  portion!5  of  the  manuscript  you  left  with  me,  and  from  this 
reading  and  your  own  explanations  I  am  more  and  more  satisfied  that  in  these  Essays 
on  the  Principles  of  Taste  in  Art  you  have  prepared  a  work  much  needed,  and  that  will 
be  interesting  and  valuable  to  all  seeking  knowledge  on  this  subject,  and  eminently  adapted 
to  be  useful  as  a  text-book  in  high  schools  and  colleges. 

As  a  general  statement  it  is  true  that  in  the  schools  and  colleges  in  this  country  little  or 
no  instruction  is  given  in  what  we  call  the  Fine  Arts,  either  in  the  principles  of  taste 
as  illustrated  in  them,  or  on  their  origin,  history,  progress,  present  condition,  etc. ;  and  if 
after  leaving  school  or  college  one  wishes  to  learn  something  of  these  subjects,  he  is  obliged 
to  pick  it  up  here  and  there,  as  he  can  find  it  in  various  volumes. 

I  have  been  a  member  of  the  Boston  School  Committee  many  years  ;  and  in  this  connec- 
tion with  our  system  of  public  instruction  have  been  clearly  of  opinion  that  some  knowledge 
in  the  department  of  the  Fine  Arts,  and  precisely  such  knowledge  as  you  have  presented  in 
these  Essays  in  an  admirably  clear  and  condensed  form,  should  be  imparted  to  the  pupils, 
and  I  feel  confident  that  the  publication  of  your  work  will  be  speedily  followed  by  its  intro- 
duction into  many  educational  Institutions  of  the  United  States. 

Very  truly  yours,  S.  K.  LOTHROP. 


Pesiberton  Square  Institute  of  Instruction  for  Young  Ladies. 

S.  P.  Long,  Esq.  Boston,  July  7,  1869. 

Dear  Sir,  —  During  the  three  years  that  you  have  lectured  to  my  advanced  classes  on  the 
subject  of  Art,  I  have  become  familiar  with  the  substance  of  the  work  which  you  propose  to 
pubUsh  ;  and  I'  assure  you  it  gives  me  great  satisftvction  to  say  that  I  regard  it  as  possessing 
peculiar  and  extraordinary  merits,  and  that  among  the  many  works  that  have  been  written 
upon  the  subject  of  Art  I  know  of  no  one  that  can  take  the  place  of  yours. 

Instead  of  confusing  the  mind  with  unnecessary  details,  it  enters  at  once  upon  the  dis- 
cussion and  exposition  of  the  principles  that  underlie  all  Art  criticism,  and  without  the 
knowledge  of  which  there  can  be  no  independent  judgment  of  the  works  of  the  great  mas- 
ters, or  even  of  those  of  inferior  merit. 

The  Essay  on  Personal  Beauty,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  very  attractive,  and  deserves  peculiar 
attention  for  the  soundness  and  importance  of  the  views  therein  presented.  Your  style  is 
simple  yet  classical,  vigorous  yet  graceful,  and  free  from  unnecessary  technical  expressions. 
I  shall  heartily  welcome  the  publication  of  a  work  so  long  desired  by  the  public,  and  so 
admirably  adapted  for  educational  purposes,  and  so  deeply  interesting  for  private  reading 
and  study.    I  shall  certainly  introduce  it  into  my  own  institution. 

Veiy  truly  yours,  GEO.  GANNETT. 


A  K  T : 

ITS  LAWS,  AND  THE  REASONS  FOR  THEM, 


GENERAL    AND    EDUCATIONAL 
PURPOSES. 


SAMUEL  P.   LONG, 

COUTfSELLOR  AT  LAW,   STUDENT  OF  THE  EXGLISH   ROTAL  ACADEMY,  AM)  PCTIL 
OF  THE  LATE  GILBERT   STUART  XEWTOX,  ESQ.,  R.  A. 


"  Though  in  practical  knowledges  every  complete  work  of  art  may  bear  the  credit  of  a 
rule,  yet  peradventure  rules  should  precede,  that  we  may  be  made  fit  to  judge  of  examples." 

"  I  had  noted  that  all  art  was  in  the  truest  perfection  when  it  might  be  reduced  to  some 
natural  principle:  for  what  are  the  most  judicious  artisans  but  the  mimics  of  nature?  This 
led  me  to  contemplate  our  own  bodies,  wherein  the  high  Architect  of  the  world  has  dis- 
played such  skill  as  to  stupefy  all  human  reason."  — SiR  HENRY  WOTTON. 


"i 


'SRSITT] 

'OulT        bosto:n-: 

LEE  iTNTD    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

XEW   YORK: 

LEE,  SHEPARD,  AXD  DILLINGHAM. 

18  71. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871, 

BY    SAMUEL    P.    LONG, 

in  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


University  Press:  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co., 
Cambridge. 


DEDICATION. 


To  those  distinguished  scholars  who  kindly  accepted  the  task 
of  examining  the  manuscript  of  this  work,  and  who  had  the 
liberality  to  commend  it,  with  sentiments  of  the  most  profound 
respect  I  dedicate  this  volume,  not  without  hope  that,  however 
much  their  well-known  desire  to  promote  the  cause  of  general 
education  may  have  influenced  them  to  overestimate  its  merits,  it 
yet  may  contribute  something  to  the  efforts  now  being  made  to 
popularize  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  those  arts  whose 
legitimate  operation  has  ever  been 

"  Tlie  manners  to  soften  and  improve  the  heart." 

S.  p.  L. 
Boston,  March,  1871. 


PREFACE. 


T 


HE  desio-n  of  the  author  of  this  vohune  is  to  render  some 


assistance  to  those  who  desire  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of 
the  principles  of  taste  as  exhibited  in  the  great  productions 
of  ancient  and  modern  Art. 

An  acquaintance  with  those  principles  is  now  getting  to  be 
regarded  as  a  necessary  part  of  polite  education ;  but  a  gi'eat 
hindrance  to  obtaining  such  knowledge  has  been  the  want  of 
a  text-book  in  which  those  principles  are  concisely  and  intel- 
ligibly discussed,  and  illustrated  by  reference  to  particular 
examples  in  the  painting,  sculpture,  and  architectm-e  of  the 
past  and  the  present. 

Attempts  have  been  made  to  remedy  this  evil,  but  never 
with  much  success  :  first,  because  the  authors  of  them  had  no 
practical  knowledge  of  art;  and  second,  because,  like  most 
critics  of  these  subjects,  they  gave  a  transcript  merely  of  the 
emotions  which  works  of  art  awakened  in  themselves,  and  not 
the  reasons  why  they  were  worthy  of  the  admiration  of  the 
beholder,  —  or,  at  best,  stating  the  rules  of  art,  but  wholly 
omitting  the  reasons  for  those  rules,  or  that  which  constitutes 
the  Philosophy  of  Art. 

In  the  present  volume  the  attempt  has  been  made  to  dis- 
cover those  reasons  in  the  wants  or  requirements  of  the  human 
constitution;   and,  if  success  has  attended  the  effort,   all  will 


VIU  PREFACE. 

have  been  accomplislied  in  that  direction  that  conld  have 
been  reasonably  expected,  for  human  inquiry  cannot  be  ex- 
tended beyond  it. 

Of  course,  the  writer  of  this  volume  does  not  claim  to  have 
discovered  any  new  principle  of  Art,  but  simply  to  have  brought 
within  the  reach  of  the  common  intellect  truths  ordinarily 
unobserved  b}^  the  mass,  ever  availing  himself  of  the  better 
knowledge  of  those  who  have  written  upon  Art  whenever  he 
thought  it  could  be  appropriated  to  the  most  complete  illustra- 
tion of  the  subject.  He  has  taken  nothing,  however,  upon 
mere  report,  but  only  after  a  critical  examination  of  the  evi- 
dence to  its  truth  and  the  exercise  of  his  own  judgment. 
There  was  ample  room  and  demand  for  thought  and  originality 
in  thus  attempting  to  popularize  the  great  leading  ideas  of 
Art,  divesting  them  of  technical  obscurities,  and  rendering 
them  intelligible  to  others  than  practical  artists. 

It  will  be  seen  that  a  much  greater  space  has  apparently 
been  given  to  painting  than  to  sculpture  and  architecture ;  but 
it  is  only  seemingly  so,  for,  being  the  first  to  be  discussed, 
principles  are  evolved  equally  affecting  all  the  elegant  arts, 
and  a  rejDetition  was  to  be  studiously  avoided  in  a  work  of  this 
descrij)tion ;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  only  those  forms  of 
architecture  have  been  considered  that  developed  some  new 
principle,  or  exhibited  some  new  feature  in  good  taste  and  of 
practical  importance. 

The  field  of  Art  is  of  such  boundless  extent,  and  the  topics 
inviting  consideration  are  so  numerous  and  attractive,  that  it 
has  not  been  found  easy  to  limit  the  discussion.  A  vast  deal 
more  might  have  been  said,  with  a  great  diminution  of  labor, 
but  it  would  only  have  added  to  the  size  and  cost  of  the 
volume,  without  a  corresponding  advantage  to  the  reader  or  the 
student.     It   is  believed  that  sufficient  has  been  given  for  a 


PREFACE.  IX 

general  understanding  of  the  subject,  and  that  is  all  that  was 
intended  by  the  author. 

Although  in  the  course  of  these  Essays  nearly  two  hundred 
aud  fifty  works  of  art  in  the  three  departments,  painting, 
architecture,  and  sculpture,  are  brought  to  the  notice  of  the 
reader,  and  many  of  them  are  subjected  to  a  critical  analysis, 
yet,  in  view  of  the  easy  access  that  the  public  now  has  to 
transcripts  of  most  of  them,  through  photographs  and  chromos, 
it  has  not  been  thought  necessary  that  engravings  of  many  of 
them  should  accompany  the  volume,  —  the  work  having  been 
so  prepared  as  to  be  intelligible  without  them.  The  few, 
however,  that  are  given,  with  the  exception  of  those  relating  to 
architecture,  are  from  works  of  rare  excellence  but  little  known 
to  the  mass;  and  although  necessarily  on  a  limited  scale,  to 
conform  to  the  size  of  the  volume,  yet  being  from  the  burin  of 
Joseph  Andrews,  Esq.,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  modern 
engravers,  they  cannot  but  present  much  of  the  extraordinary 
merits  of  the  gi'eat  originals  by  Michael  Augelo,  Raphael, 
Titian,  and  Repabrandt. 


CONTENTS. 


ESSAY    I. 

Page 

Personal  Beauty i 

Its  principles  but  little  unierstfcd  ;  reasons  for  this  ;  many  theo- 
ries upon  the  subject ;  the  theory  to  be  maintained  in  the  present 
essay ;  Agassiz's  theory  of  the  origin  of  the  human  species  ;  Dar- 
win's theory  ;  these  theories  examined  ;  the  Apollo  Belvedere,  Venus 
de  Medici,  and  other  Greek  statues ;  writers  on  beauty  divided  into 
two  classes,  the  essential  difference  between  them,  what  is  true 
and  what  is  false  in  each  ;  utility  (as  vulgarly  defined)  not  to  be 
considered  an  element  of  beautj'^ ;  beauty  in  architecture,  on  what 
it  is  largely  dependent ;  on  what  it  is  chiefly  dependent  in  the  hu- 
man figure  ;  essential  quality  of  beauty  and  deformity;  a  standard 
of  beauty ;  objections  to,  stated  and  refuted ;  where  that  standard 
is  to  be  found  ;  claims  of  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  Venus  de  Medici 
to  be  considered  that  standard  objected  to ;  those  objections  exam- 
ined ;  natural  beauty  and  the  highest  type  of  ideal  beauty  the  same ; 
the  phrase  "perfect  beauty"  a  general  term;  family  and  national 
resemblances  a  modification  of  it ;  the  object  aimed  at  by  the  Greek 
sculptors  in  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus  ;  personal  beauty  divided  by 
the  Greeks  into  two  classes,  examples  of  each ;  Greek  beauty  ;  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's  theory  in  regard  to  it ;  that  theory  as  simplified 
by  Mr.  Walker  ;  synopsis  of  the  preceding  discussions  ;  the  elements 
of  beauty  ;  "proportion,"  the  term  explained,  and  the  reasons  why 
it  pleases  stated  ;  bad  proportion,  what  it  results  from  ;  proportion- 
ate measurement  of  the  two  sexes ;  "symmetry"  defined  and  illus- 
trated ;  "simplicity','  as  an  element  of  beauty;  "variety"  as  an 
element  of  beauty ;  to  what  extent  necessary  in  any  composition  ; 
corrective  emplo}Tnent  of  each  ;  each  the  antidote  of  the  other ; 
the  law  that  regulates  their  employment  in  its  application  to  the 
human  figure  ;  lean,  fat,  and  muscular,  very  young  and  very  old 
persons,  reasons  why  they  can  never  be  perfectly  beautiful ;  period 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

of  life  when  the  human  form  is  in  its  gi-eatest  perfection  ;  violent 
passion,  its  effect  on  human  beauty ;  the  human  form  never  or  rarely 
represented  by  the  ancient  Greeks  as  violently  excited  ;  the  agreeable 
and  the  ferocious  passions  expressed  by  different  lines ;  what  lines 
characterize  the  idiot,  the  bear,  the  hog,  the  toad,  and  all  other 
ugly  animals  ;  the  two  sexes,  which  the  most  beautiful ;  the  white, 
the  red,  and  the  black  man  compared  in  regard  to  beauty  of  color  ; 
the  elements  of  beauty  of  color  in  the  white  :  reasons  for  the  supe- 
rior beauty  of  the  white,  as  given  by  Sir  Uvedale  Price  ;  the  entire 
human  family  to  be  judged  by  the  same  law  of  beauty  ;  the  beauty 
of  the  modern  Greeks  not  pre-eminent  ;  to  what  portion  of  the 
human  family  is  now  assigned  that  superiority  ;  to  what  they  are 
chiefly  indebted  for  it  ;  Avhy  certain  nations  and  classes  are  deficient 
in  beauty;  the  point  of  beauty;  a  compromise,  or  "the  golden 
mean  "  ;  all  extremes  imply  defects  ;  much  personal  beauty  under 
adverse  circumstances  ;  reasons  for  it ;  relative  value  of  natural  and 
artificial  causes  in  producing  beauty  ;  concluding  remarks. 


ESSAY    II. 
Different  Classes  of  Painting 25 

Number  into  which  divided  ;  correspondence  betAveen  the  highest 
classes  in  painting  and  the  highest  classes  in  letters  ;  grotesque 
painting  described  and  illustrated  ;  landscape,  number  of  divisions 
of,  and  their  names ;  first  division,  description  of,  and  rank ;  second 
division,  description  and  example  of ;  method  pursued  by  most 
artists  in  gathering  materials  for  their  ideal  landscapes  ;  historical 
landscape,  description  and  example  of  ;  figures  in  landscape  gener- 
ally a  subordinate  portion  of  the  design  ;  landscapes  in  which  the 
figures  are  the  most  important  portion  of  the  composition  ;  for  what 
purpose  the  landscape  is  introduced  in  such  designs  ;  great  difficulty 
in  combining  landscape  and  figures  ;  third  division  of  landscape  de- 
scribed and  illustrated  by  example  ;  portraiture  ;  its  high  rank 
under  certain  conditions  ;  allegoric  painting  ;  parallel  between  and 
written  allegory;  examples  of  allegoric  painting;  difference  between 
and  syjnbolic  painting  ;  epic  painting  ;  ejnc  poetry  described,  and 
wherein  it  differs  from  the  drama  and  history ;  criticism  on  the  Iliad 
by  Fuseli  ;  characteristics  of  epic  painting  same  as  those  of  epic 
poetry ;  Michael  Angelo's  grand  series  of  epic  designs  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel ;  the  story  told  by  it,  as  first  read  by  Fuseli  ;  Michael  An 
gelo  tlie  inventor  of  epic  painting;  the  title  it  obtained  for  its 
author;  dramatic  painting;  characteristics  of,  and  wherein  it  differs 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

from  dramatic  and  liistoric  painting  ;  example  of  dramatic  paint- 
ing ;  who  most  excelled  in  it,  and  the  title  he  acquired  bj^  it  ; 
historic  painting ;  portraiture  sometimes  historic  ;  example  of ; 
pure  historic  painting  described  ;  what  pictorial  illustrations  en- 
titled to  be  called  historical ;  to  what  class  in  letters  delineations 
of  subordinate  events  in  history  correspond ;  combined  historic 
and  allegoric  painting,  example  of  ;  combined  historic  and  dra- 
matic painting,  example  of ;  the  different  effect  upon  the  hu- 
man mind,  feelings,  and  sentiments  produced  by  the  different 
classes  of  painting  ;  not  many  pure  epic,  dramatic,  and  historic 
paintings  ;  necessary  to  know  the  features  of  each  to  admire  with 
discrimination  and  judge  rightly  of  the  merits  of  the  liigher  pro- 
ductions of  art. 


ESSAY    III. 
Intention 44 

Constituent  portions  of  painting  ;  their  names  and  the  rank  of 
invention  in  art  ;  examples  of  the  highest  exercise  of  it ;  under 
what  heads  to  be  considered  ;  selection  of  a  subject  ;  importance  of 
having  one  ;  many  paintings  of  great  reputation  have  none  ;  exam- 
ple of ;  Avhat  is  required  in  every  complete  painting  ;  many  scenes, 
although  well  described,  do  not  admit  of  pictorial  delineation  ; 
what  subjects  most  fitting  for  representation  on  canvas  ;  sources 
from  which  subjects  were  generally  selected  by  the  early  Italian 
masters  ;  sources  from  whence  modern  art  derives  them  ;  differ- 
ence between  the  two  sources,  and  what  it  indicates  ;  the  bounda- 
ries of  art  extended  by  the  moderns  ;  examples  of  paintings  whose 
subjects  were  not  drawn  from  any  foreign  source,  that  is,  not  from 
any  written  record  ;  examples  of  paintings  whose  subjects  as  Avell 
as  the  materials  of  the  composition  were  invented  or  original  ;  ex- 
tent of  the  inventive  faculty  in  art  ;  examples  of ;  centaurs  and 
satyrs,  elves  and  fairies,  wizards  and  witches,  ghosts  and  hobgoblins, 
sylphs  and  naiads,  mermaids,  cherubs,  angels,  and  demons  ;  the 
Divine  Being,  representations  of ;  examples  of  paintings  whose  sub- 
jects are  not  fully  described,  only  hinted  or  briefly  mentioned  by 
some  writers  ;  "  Titania's  Court,"  by  Allston  ;  *'  Dinner  at  Page's 
House,"  by  Leslie  ;  point  of  time  most  fitting  for  representation  ; 
examples  illustrating  it  ;  events  of  different  periods  not  to  be  repre- 
sented on  the  same  canvas  ;  notable  example  of  offence  against  this 
law  of  art  ;   "  The  Transfiguration." 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

ESSAY    IV. 
Composition 54 

Like  invention  a  purely  mental  operation ;  to  be  considered  first, 
as  to  the  manner  of  filling  the  canvas  to  render  it  agreeable  to  the 
eye  without  reference  to  the  subject  ;  second,  to  assist  expression  by 
preserving  a  correspondence  between  the  arrangement  of  the  mate- 
rials and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject ;  influences  that  attach  to 
certain  lines ;  comparison  of  Egyptian  with  Grecian  sculptures  in 
illustration  thereof ;  superior  beauty  of  the  latter ;  what  it  results 
from  ;  variety,  its  ofiice  and  value  in  composition  ;  characterizes 
every  part  of  it ;  must  not  be  carried  to  excess  ;  its  corrective  sim- 
plicity ;  the  proportionate  quantity  of  each  in  a  composition  regu- 
lated by  the  sentiment  of  the  subject  ;  this  illustrated  by  two 
ancient  Greek  sculptures  ;  the  principles  on  which  they  were  con- 
structed both  proper  and  natural :  those  principles  explained  and 
applied  to  painting ;  paintings  illustrative  of  a  correspondence  be- 
tween the  composition  and  sentiment  of  the  subject ;  most  of  the 
Madonnas  examples  of;  Madonnas  and  other  paintings  in  which 
this  rule  is  not  observed  ;  evils  resulting  therefrom  ;  Evangelists  by 
Domenichino  compared  with  representations  of  the  same  subjects  by 
Michael  Angelo  ;  in  the  works  of  Eaphael  a  correspondence  gener- 
ally between  the  composition  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject  ;  two 
lost  cartoons,  "The  Resurrection"  and  "The  Ascension,"  remarka- 
ble examples  of  ;  "  The  Marriage  at  Cana,"  by  Paul  Veronese,  a  no 
less  notable  example  of  offence  against  this  requirement ;  Avhat  Paul 
Veronese  aimed  at  in  that  representation  ;  how  it  would  have  been 
represented  by  Da  Vinci  or  Raphael. 


ESSAY    V. 

Design,  or  Drawing 62 

The  third  of  the  component  parts  of  the  art  and  the  most  im- 
portant ;  to  be,  like  composition,  considered  under  two  heads, 
appropriate  and  correct  design  ;  method  generally  pursued  by 
artists  in  painting  a  picture  ;  the  use  of  the  model.  Tinder  Avhat 
circumstances  to  be  closely  followed  .and  when  not  ;  misuse  of  the 
model ;  many  examples  illustrative  of  it  from  old  Italian  and  mod- 
ern art  in  both  painting  and  sculpture  ;  the  evil  resulting  from  such 
misuse  in  delineations  of  historical  subjects  ;  the  proper  use  of  the 
model  pointed  out  by  Mr.  Allston  and  illustrated  in  "La  Belle 
Jardiniere  "  by  Raphael ;  the  object  aimed  at  by  Raphael  in  his  rep- 


CONTENTS.  XV 

resentation  of  ''The  Holy  Family,"  and  by  Da  Vinci  in  "The  Last 
Supper,"  and  how  far  they  accomplished  it  ;  the  painter  of  history 
to  be  governed  by  the  same  laws  as  the  writer  of  it  ;  the  proper  use 
of  the  model,  where  the  real  actors  in  the  scene  cannot  be  procured, 
illustrated  by  what  is  required  of  the  personators  of  the  drama ; 
what  is  said  upon  this  subject  applicable  whether  the  historical  fact 
or  only  the  sentiment  of  it  is  to  be  delineated ;  most  historical  paint- 
ings in  one  respect  only  a  pretence  ;  not  conformable  to  the  written 
record  ;  the  cause  of  this  ;  rules  deducible  from  what  has  been  ad- 
vanced applicable  to  many  classes  of  painting. 

Correct  design  or  drawing  ;  the  term  defined  ;  one  of  the  greatest 
tUftieulties  in  art ;  small  advance  in  the  knowledge  of  it  until  the 
fourteenth  century  ;  first  improvement  manifest  in  the  works  of 
Masaccio  and  his  contemporaries  ;  brought  to  perfection  by  Da 
Vinci,  JM.  Angelo,  and  Eaphael;  Michael  Angelo's  style  of  design, 
objected  to  by  some,  objections  refuted;  Eaphael's  style  of  design, 
its  peculiar  characteristics  ;  Titian's  style  of  design  ;  Correggio's 
style  ;  perfection  in  design  in  Greek  sculptures  ;  these  the  classics 
in  art  ;  advantages  resulting  from  the  study  of  them  ;  in  what  re- 
spects better  than  nature  ;  totally  neglected  by  the  Dutch,  Flem- 
ish, and  Venetian  schools  ;  Poussin,  his  study  of  the  antique 
sculptures ;   David's  style  of  design ;  Raphael  and  Allston. 


ESSAY    VI. 

Chiaro-Oscueo 75 

The  terra  explained  and  its  several  offices  pointed  out ;  natural 
light  and  darkness ;  their  influence  upon  the  feelings  and  sentiments ; 
the  same  impressions  result  from  the  employment  of  light  and 
shadow  in  art ;  the  reasons  for  it ;  how  the  mind  gets  to  be  im- 
pressed with  the  ideas  of  solidity  and  concavity,  squareness  and 
roundness,  nearness,  distance,  and  space  in  the  natural  Avorld  ;  how 
and  why  in  art ;  general  light  and  shadow  as  distinguished  from  a 
particular  light  and  shadow  ;  the  office  and  value  of  each  illustrated 
by  the  two  drawings  of  the  same  bunch  of  gi-apes  ;  the  value  of  a 
general  light  and  shade  still  further  illustrated  by  comparing  the 
painting  of  "The  "Woman  accused  in  the  Synagogue"  with  that  of 
"  The  School  of  Athens,"  the  former  by  Eembrandt,  the  latter  by 
Raphael ;  general  light  and  shadow  productive  of  great  breadth 
and  picturesque  effect ;  can  render  attractive  works  deficient  in 
every  other  good  quality  of  art ;  examples  of,  in  the  Plemish  and 
Dutch  schools,  and  the  later  works  of  Danby  and  Martin,  English 


XVI  CONTEXTS. 

painters ;  the  light  and  shade  nnder  which  objects  in  nature  are  com- 
monly viewed  not  always  the  best  for  pictorial  representation ;  there 
may  be  a  selection  in  this  respect  as  in  every  other  part  of  the  art ; 
truth  of  light  and  shade  not  always  satisfactory  ;  this  illustrated  by 
comparing  a  view  taken  by  a  daguerreotype  with  an  idealized  view 
by  a  competent  artist ;  not  always  easy  to  obtain  masses  of  light 
and  dark  ;  violent  contrasts  of  light  and  dark,  their  use  in  giving 
expression,  example  of ;  the  brightest  light,  its  place  in  a  composi- 
tion ;  number  of  lights  required  and  the  degree  of  each. 

Correspondence  between  the  lights  and  shades  or  lights  and  darks 
and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject ;  this  not  always  easy  to  be  accom- 
plished, every  subject  requiring  a  different  treatment,  one  peculiar 
to  itself;  examples  illustrating  a  correspondence,  "The  Nativity," 
by  Correggio,  "The  Ecce  Homo"  and  "Appearance  to  the  Shep- 
herds," by  Rembrandt  ;  the  employment  of  a  general  light  and 
shadow  for  effect  and  to  give  expression  a  comparatively  modern 
invention  ;  first  seen  in  the  works  of  Da  Vinci ;  Da  Vinci  called  its 
inventor  ;  the  employment  of  them  perfected  in  the  works  of  Cor- 
reggio and  Rembrandt ;  some  powerful  effects  of,  in  the  Avorks  of 
Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael,  but  not  recognized  by  them  as  a  prin- 
ciple of  imitation  ;  the  chiaro-oscuro  of  Correggio  and  Rembrandt 
compared  ;  the  chiaro-oscuro  of  the  Venetian  school  ;  the  difference 
in  this  respect  as  compared  with  that  of  the  Lombard  and  Dutch 
schools  ;  Rembrandt's  attractive  and  repulsive  qualities  as  an  artist.  . 


ESSAY    VII. 
Color 88 

The  most  enchanting  but,  for  the  general  purposes  of  imitation, 
the  least  essential,  of  the  constituent  portions  of  the  art  :  its  real 
rank  and  value  stated  ;  terms  employed  in  discussions  on  this  sub- 
ject enumerated  and  explained  ;  different  influences  attached  to  col- 
ors, the  dis]">osition  of  colors  in  accordance  therewith  ;  Avhen  this 
arrangement  may  be  departed  from,  as  in  the  painting  of  "  The 
Scourging  of  Christ  "  by  Titian  ;  aerial  perspective  defined,  and  its 
effects  in  causing  objects  in  a  painting  to  appear  to  be  near  or  re 
mote ;  evil  effects  from  neglecting  aerial  perspective  ;  highest  light 
and  deepest  shadow,  their  effect  on  local  color. 

Harmony  of  color  ;  Mr.  West's  theory  in  regard  to  the  mode  of 
producing  it  ;  liow  produced  by  tone  ;  how  by  reflection  ;  how 
produced  by  balance  of  colors  ;  examples  illusti-ating  each  mode  ; 
harmony  more   complete  when   all  act   unitedly  ;  the  great  value 


CONTENTS.  XV 11 

of  harmony  of  colors  ;  breadth  of  color  ;  its  basis  and  manner  of 
producing  breadth  ;  of  greater  value  wlien  united  to  harmony  ; 
may  exist  without  it  ;  these  points  illustrated  by  several  examjjles  ; 
the  iris  ;  "  Bacchus  and  Ariadne  "  by  Titian  ;  continuity  of  color; 
what  it  consists  in  ;  its  value  in  producing  breadth  and  union. 

Correspondence  between  the  colors  of  a  picture  and  the  senti- 
ment ;  several  examples  illustrating  it ;  evils  resulting  from  the 
neglect  of ;  a  correspondence  between  the  colors  employed  and  the 
sentiment  of  the  subject,  illustrated  by  the  analogies  of  language 
and  music  ;  on  what  the  power  of  language  depends  ;  tones  ;  the 
language  of  nature  ;  different  tones  or  modulations  of  the  voice 
employed  to  express  different  feelings,  passions,  and  sentiments  ; 
Gardner's  "Music  of  Nature  "  ;  three  parts  to  the  human  voice, 
their  names,  place  from  whence  they  spring,  and  purpose  ;  what 
langiiage  requires  to  be  effective  ;  why  Mr.  Burke  failed  in  his 
speech  on  the  trial  of  Warren  Hastings  ;  in  music  a  correspondence 
between  the  tones  employed  and  the  sentiments  of  the  subjects  ; 
the  eye  governed  by  the  same  laws  as  the  ear  ;  different  colors  affect 
the  eye  and  the  feelings  as  do  different  tones  in  music  ;  evil  efiects 
where  a  correspondence  between  them  is  neglected,  in  both  painting 
and  music  ;  Salvator  Eosa,  his  manner  in  every  constituent  portion 
of  the  art. 

Certain  popular  errors  in  regard  to  what  constitutes  good  col- 
oring ;  first,  too  great  relief ;  second,  glare  ;  third,  high  finish  ;  ^ 
the  evils  of  each  pointed  out  and  illustrated  by  examples  ;  Mr. 
Allston  at  the  Royal  Academy  Exhibition ;  three  styles  in  laying  on 
the  colors  ;  which  to  be  preferred  ;  Michael  Angelo's,  Raphael's, 
Titian's,  and  Con^eggio's  style,  with  the  styles  of  the  other  leading 
masters  ;  Gilbert  Stuart  Newton,  Esq.  ;  his  excellence  as  a  color- 
ist ;  Sir  Joshua  Re>Tiolds  attempts  to  discover  the  manner  of  Titian  ; 
why  he  did  not  find  it ;  where  he  should  have  looked  for  it ;  con- 
clusion in  regard  to  it. 


ESSAY    VIII. 
Da  Vinci,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Raphael        .        .        .         .110 

Da  Vinci. 

Tlie  five  great  masters ;  favorable  condition  of  the  world  at 
the  time  of  their  appearance  ;  Cimabue,  Giotto,  Masaccio,  Signo- 
relli,  connecting  link  between  the  old  style  and  the  new  ;  no 
artist  more  generally  known  to  the  public  than  Leonardo  da  Vinci  ; 
by  what  painting  best  known  ;  his  parentage,   and  early  love  of 


XVlll  CONTENTS. 

art ;  birth,  career,  and  death ;  his  vast  acquirements  ;  foreshadowed 
almost  every  improvement  in  art  and  science  ;  prominent  charac- 
teristics of  ;  "  The  Battle  of  the  Standard  "  ;  "The  Last  Supper  "  ; 
extende.d  the  field  of  art,  and  added  one  important  feature  to  its 
technical  department ;  before  his  appearance  art  deficient  in  pictu- 
resque effect  ;  imitated  by  his  contemporaries  and  successors  ;  ridi- 
culed unjustly  by  the  biogi-apher  of  Michael  Angelo  ;  in  what  supe- 
rior to  Michael  Angelo  ;  in  what  excelled  by  him  ;  connected  paint- 
ing with  the  science  of  anatomy  and  prepared  the  w&y  for  Michael 
Angelo. 

Michael  Axgelo. 

His  parentage,  birth,  and  early  education  ;  his  first  instructor ; 
his  first  patron  ;  visit  to  Rome,  and  what  he  did  there  to  estab- 
lish his  character  as  a  great  artist  ;  his  return  to  Florence,  and 
employment  there  ;  "  Battle  of  Pisa  "  ;  statues  of  "  Day  and 
Night "  ;  his  second  visit  to  Rome,  for  what  purpose  ;  Julius 
11.  ;  tomb  of  the  Medici  ;  statue  of  Moses  ;  St.  Peter's  Church, 
origin  of  ;  Bramante  ;  Michael  Angelo  invited  by  Julius  II, 
to  adorn  the  walls  of  the  Sistine  Chapel ;  the  invitation  ac- 
cepted ;  his  slight  knowledge  of  painting  when  he  commenced  the 
task  ;  makes  the  drawings  for,  and  endeavors  to  get  them  colored 
by  other  artists  ;  their  failure  to  satisfy  him  ;  he  accomplishes  the 
entire  series  himself  in  twenty-two  months,  "  The  Last  Judgment" 
not  included ;  subjects  of  the  series  ;  few  oil  paintings  by  him  ;  the 
figure  of  Lazarus  said  to  be  the  only  one  ;  easy  to  distinguish  the 
true  from  the  false  ;  characteristics  of  his  style  ;  Michael  Angelo 
not  always  understood  ;  a  cultivated  taste  necessary  to  appreciate 
him  fully  ;  his  peculiar  style  ;  what  it  resulted  from  ;  influence  of 
particular  lines  ;  what  Mr.  Addison  says  upon  the  subject  ;  the 
prophets  "Jonah,"  "Moses,"  Jeremiah";  impressions  made  by 
his  works  different  from  those  made  by  the  works  of  Raphael  ;  not 
to  be  judged  from  engravings  ;  must  be  seen  in  the  Sistine  Chapel ; 
the  compliment  paid  him  by  Raphael. 

Raphael. 

His  parentage,  birth,  and  first  teacher  ;  not  a  forward  scholar  ; 
his  first  visit  to  Florence  ;  his  return  to  Perugia  ;  pictures  there 
painted  by  him,  and  the  present  possessors  of  them  ;  his  second 
visit  to  Florence ;  some  of  his  best  works  then  executed  ;  subjects  of 
the  most  celebrated  ;  invited  by  Julius  II.  to  visit  Rome,  to  adorn 
certain  rooms  in  the  Vatican  ;  accepts  the  task  ;  names  of  the  fres- 
coes, and  what  the  series  illustrates;  "The  Transfiguration,"  and 
other  paintings  ;  his  early  death  ;  the  impression  that  event  made 


CONTENTS.  XIX 

on  Italy ;  his  burial  and  the  place  of  his  interment ;  the  name  of  his 
betrothed  and  the  reason  why  he  was  nev.er  married  ;  the  number  of 
his  paintings  and  drawing*;  "The  Transfiguration, "  by  whom 
completed  ;  his  rank  as  a  painter ;  his  department  of  art  different 
from  that  of  Michael  Angelo  ;  therefore  not  to  be  compared  to- 
gether ;  each  to  be  judged  by  different  laws  ;  each  first  in  his  own 
department ;  in  that,  perhaps,  never  to  be  excelled  ;  new  field  to  be 
sought  by  modern  artists. 

fISSAY    IX. 

Titian  and  Correggio 128 

Titian. 

Simultaneous  appearance  of  authors  and  artists  distinguished  for 
their  parts  and  genius  ;  as  in  Greece  so  in  Italy,  in  the  case  of  the 
great  masters  ;  the  Venetian  school,  who  most  prominent  in  it ;  its 
greatest  ornament  Titian  ;  his  birth,  and  with  whom  he  studied  ; 
the  great  honors  paid  him  ;  his  great  age,  industry,  and  great  num- 
ber of  works  executed  by  him  ;  the  most  noted  of  his  larger  produc- 
tions ;  the  most  attractive  of  his  smaller ;  the  kind  of  work  on  which 
he  was  generally  employed ;  his  ability  as  a  draughtsman  questioned 
by  Michael  Angelo  ;  no  certain  grounds  to  doubt  his  ability  as  a  de- 
signer ;  unsurpassed  as  a  colorist ;  reduced  to  system  what  before 
had  been  practised  at  random  ;  his  particular  improvements,  and 
their  vast  importance  and  value  to  art ;  to  fully  comprehend  them 
we  must  know  the  previous  and  subsequent  history  of  art ;  Sir 
Joshua  RejTiolds's  estimate  of  him ;  no  original  work  of  Titian  in 
the  United  States  ;  Titian's  illness  and  death. 

Correggio. 

Less  known  of  his  birth,  life,  and  death  than  of  any  other  great 
artist ;  improbable  story  of  the  cause  of  his  death  ;  something 
wondrous  always  related  of  men  of  genius  ;  reasons  for  it ;  Correg- 
gio's  birthplace  ;  his  first  teacher  ;  never  visited  Rome  ;  had  very 
little  if  any  acquaintance  with  Michael  Angelo,  Da  Vinci,  Titian,  or 
Raphael ;  his  death  and  place  of  burial ;  the  burial-places  of  the 
other  four  fathers  of  the  art  ;  the  grandest  of  his  performances  at 
Parma  in  the  cathedral  ;  the  subjects  of  them  ;  the  most  attractive 
of  his  smaller  productions  ;  all  his  works,  large  and  small,  have  the 
same  characteristics  ;  enumeration  of  them  ;  his  peculiar  character- 
istic, that  on  which  rests  his  fame  as  an  artist  ;  the  principle  of 
that  characteristic  regulated  every  portion  of  his  art  ;  the  merit  of 


XX  CONTENTS. 

the  invention  to  be  divided  between  him  and  Da  Vinci  ;  the  princi- 
ple generally  adopted  ;  Reynolds  a  follower  and  imitator  of  him  ; 
both  followers  of  nature  ;  some  defects  attributed  to  Correggio's 
style  ;  only  dust  on  a  diamond  ;  each  of  the  live  great  masters  supe- 
rior in  some  great  quality  of  art,  but  deficient  in  others  ;  what  each 
excelled  in  ;  the  Bologna  school  under  the  Caracci  attempted  to 
Unite  the  better  parts  of  each  ;  reasons  why  they  failed  ;  how  they 
"might  have  been  successful ;  summary  of  the  progress  of  art,  and 
of  the  peculiar  qualities  of  each  of  the  five  great  founders. 


ESSAY    X 
English  and  French  Art 137 

The  Natural  School. 

English  art  under  the  presidency  of  Reynolds,  West,  and  Law- 
rence ;  and  French  art  of  the  school  of  David  *'  under  the  empire"  ; 
no  native  painter  of  eminence  in  England  previous  to  Hogarth  ; 
foreign  painters  of  great  merit  in  abundance  ;  reasons  for  the  inferi- 
ority of  native  talent ;  equally  illustrate  a  similar  condition  of  art 
in  any  other  country ;  Hogarth's  first  appearance  ;  Reynolds  and  his 
contemporaries,  their  great  merit  as  a  school ;  some  notice  of  the 
Pre-Raphaelite  school ;  its  claims  to  pre-eminence  discussed  and 
refuted  ;  Reynolds  the  nominal,  Hogarth  the  real,  founder  of  the 
English  school. 

Hogarth. 

Difference  of  opinion  in  regard  to  Hogarth's  merits  ;  reasons  that 
give  rise  to  it  ;  what  we  propose  to  do  for  him  ;  what  we  first 
claim  for  him  ;  the  first  to  practise  satirical  painting  ;  an  inventor 
and  a  genius  like  Shakespeare,  and  like  him  to  be  judged  by  his  own 
law,  and  not  by  the  law  of  the  Italian  masters,  except  as  regards 
the  mechanical  part  of  the  art ;  what  Hogarth  aimed  at ;  what  the 
Italian  masters  aimed  at  ;  no  claim  to  be  considered  an  historical 
painter  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term  ;  did  not  study  the 
old  masters  ;  no  necessity  for  doing  it ;  commissioned  by  the  Al- 
mighty to  introduce  a  new  branch  of  art  ;  his  success  in  doing  it  ; 
the  national  painter  of  England,  as  Shakespeare  was  the  national 
poet ;  their  fame  equally  to  endure. 

WiLKIE. 

The  painter  of  "The  Blind  Fiddler,"  "Duncan  Gray,"  "Cut 
Finger,"   "Letter  of  Introduction"  ;  in  some  respects  resembling 


CONTENTS.  xxi 

Hogarth  ;  attempt  by  John  Burnett  in  his  "Life  of  ReynoUls"  to 
elevate  Wilkie  at  Hogarth's  expense  ;  rebuked  by  Blackwood  for  it ; 
the  reasons  assigned  by  Burnett  for  Hogarth's  supposed  inferiority  ; 
those  reasons  considered  and  refuted  ;  what  Burnett  says  of  Wilkie's 
productions  equally  applicable  to  the  works  of  Hogarth  ;  Hogarth 
local  only  in  his  costume  ;  like  Wilkie,  general  in  the  representation 
of  character  and  the  passions  ;  his  delineations  find  representatives 
in  all  times  and  in  all  nations ;  equally  strike  home  to  the  feelings  of 
every  people  ;  examples  of  this,  and  reasons  for  it  ;  Wilkie's  indebt- 
edness to  Hogarth  ;  real  ditlerence  between  Wilkie  and  Hogarth  ; 
wherein  both  differed  from  the  Dutch  and  Flemish  painters  ;  Ho- 
garth a  pioneer  ;  discovered  a  new  country  ;  Wilkie  a  cultivator  of 
it ;  Hogarth  composed  a  new  air,  Wilkie  added  variations. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

His  great  popularity  as  a  man  as  well  as  an  artist;  peculiar  causes 
for  it ;  his  lectures  on  art  ;  does  not  hold  a  high  rank  as  an  histori- 
cal painter  ;  his  best  works  in  that  department  ;  those  in  which  he 
failed  ;  his  portrait  of  Mrs.  Siddons  as  "The  Tragic  Muse"  ;  what 
Lawrence  said  of  it ;  Reynolds  a  great  student  of  the  works  of 
Michael  Angelo  ;  influence  on  his  style  ;  visits  the  Vatican  ;  portrait-' 
painting  raised  by  him  from  the  real  to  the  ideal ;  represented  the 
mental  as  well  as  the  physical  characteristics  of  his  sitter  ;  por- 
trayed many  phases  of  the  same  passion  and  sentiment ;  examples 
of  ;  Lord  Heathfield  and  Commodore  Keppel  ;  all  the  accessories  of 
his  portraits  in  keeping  wdth  the  character  represented  ;  very  suc- 
cessful in  portra3nng  the  high-bred  women  of  England  ;  successful 
in  the  painting  of  children  ;  happy  idea  in  regard  to  them  ;  wherein 
it  differed  from  the  old  practice ;  Reynolds's  aim  in  a  portrait  differ- 
ent from  that  of  ordinary  painters  ;  studies  resemblance  in  the  air 
and  attitudes  equally  as  in  the  features  ;  his  rank  as  compared  with 
that  of  Lawrence  ;  in  what  each  most  excelled  ;  his  present  fame  as 
great  now  as  when  he  was  living  ;  no  greater  portrait-painter  since 
Van  Dyck. 

Sir  Benjamin  AVest. 

Former  high  estimate  of  him,  and  present  depression  ;  his  birth  ; 
place  of  nativity  ;  visit  to  England,  and  election  as  President  of  the 
Royal  Academy  ;  contemporary  and  rival  of  David,  founder  of  the 
French  school  under  Napoleon  ;  West's  great  attachment  to  the 
United  States  ;  feelings  of  respect  and  veneration  with  which  we 
undertake  to  discuss  his  merits  as  an  artist ;  by  what  paintings  best 
known  in  the  United  States  ;  difficult  for  Americans  to  understand 


XXll  CONTENTS. 

the  present  low  estimate  of  him  in  Europe  ;  his  fall  as  remarkable 
as  his  elevation  ;  what  merits  the  transatlantic  critics  concede  to 
him  ;  what  are  now  considered  to  have  been  his  defects  ;  causes  as- 
signed for  this  great  chiange  of  opinion  ;  opinion  of  German  critics 
in  regard  to  it ;  that  opinion  not  well  founded  ;  real  causes  for  it 
Stated  ;  some  of  them  peculiar  to  a  monarchical  government ;  some 
of  them  personal ;  popularity  or  unpopularity  no  decisive  proof  of 
merit  or  demerit;  West's  great  painting  of  "Christ  healing  the 
Sick,"  after  his  decease  hung  in  the  National  Gallery  by  the  side  of 
**'  The  Raising  of  Lazarus"  by  Michael  Angelo  and  Sebastiano  del 
Piombo  ;  the  contrast  fatal  to  his  reputation  as  a  delineator  of  scrip- 
tural subjects  ;  his  earlier  efforts  on  unscripti(.ral  subjects  had  great 
and  acknowledged  merit  at  the  time  they  were  painted  ;  their 
reputation  now  equally  great  ;  his  scriptural  delineations  unsur- 
passed at  the  time  by  any  contemporary  effort  in  the  same  class  on 
the  Continent ;  at  present  sunk  in  the  public  estimation  below  his 
real  merits  ;  destined  one  day  to  resume  a  position  justly  due  liim 
as  a  great  artist ;  reason  for  this  opinion. 

The  Affected  School. 

The  French  ScJwol  under  the  Empire. 

David. 

The  painter  of  the  horrible  ;  lived  in  troublous  times,  and  caught 
his  inspirations  from  the  surroundings  ;  the  court  painter  under 
Napoleon  ;  by  what  works  best  known  in  the  United  States  ;  the 
rival  and  contemporary  of  West,  and  founder  of  the  extravagant 
or  affected  school  ;  this  school  not  to  be  confounded  with  that 
which  preceded  it,  the  school  of  Poussin,  Le  Sueur,  Greuze,  Claude, 
Joseph  Vernet;  that  school  founded  on  the  principles  of  general 
nature  ;  certain  principles  of  expression  and  attitude  implanted 
in  man  at  creation  ;  those  principles  a  guide  to  coiTect  imita- 
tion ;  any  exaggeration  of  them  unnatural,  untrue,  and  affected  ; 
French  art  of  the  school  of  David,  a  transcript  of  French  man- 
ners of  that  i)eriod  ;  it  pleased  the  French  people,  but  not  gen- 
erally other  nations  ;  reasons  for  this  ;  Voltaire's  remarks  bear- 
ing upon  this  point  ;  the  great  Italian  painters  worked  on  general 
principles  ;  had  nothing  local  in  their  mode  of  representation  ;  the 
ancient  Greeks  the  same  ;  also  Shakespeare,  and  all  great  dramat- 
ists, and  therefore  universally  admired  ;  portrait  of  child  by  Van 
Dyck  in  which  eveiy  one  sees  a  resemblance  to  some  child  of  their 
acquaintance  ;  reason  for  this  its  truth  to  nature  ;   child's  nature 


CONTENTS.  XXlll 

the  same  everywhere  in  expression,  attitude,  gesture  ;  nature  some- 
times obliterated  by  education  ;  two  paintings  of  "The  Deluge" 
compared,  one  by  Poussin,  the  other  by  Girodet ;  the  first  an  exam- 
ple of  the  natural,  the  other  of  the  affected  school  ;  description  of 
the  two  designs  by  Mrs.  Jameson  ;  great  artists  in  France  under  the 
Empire  contemporary  with  the  David  school  not  followers  of  his 
style ;  Paul  de  la  Roche  and  others,  their  works  a  proof  of  this ;  the 
present  French  school  very  distinguished  ;  this  country  once  deluged 
with  works  from  the  school  of  David  ;  their  influence  on  the  public 
taste  pernicious  ;  still  have  some  influence  in  our  smaller  schools  of 
instruction  ;  artists  themselves  shun  them  now  as  formerly,  and 
study  the  Greek  sculptures  ;  they  are  the  classics  in  art,  and  hold 
in  ait  a  place  corresponding  to  that  of  the  classics  in  letters  ;  in 
forming  a  correct  taste  in  poetry,  necessary  to  commence  by  read- 
ing the  old  English  poets  ;  in  forming  a  correct  taste  in  art,  must 
begin  by  studying  the  old  Greek  and  Italian  masters  ;  the  evil  re- 
sulting from  the  neglect  of. 

II 

ESSAY    XL 
Sculpture 163 

Carried  to  the  utmost  perfection  by  the  Greeks  ;  not  known  if 
they  equally  excelled  in  painting  ;  whether  they  were  inferior  to 
or  surpassed  the  Italian  masters  ;  other  nations  may  at  some  time 
or  other  excel  them  in  another  class,  but  not  in  the  class  of  aesthetic 
sculpture  ;  the  period  of  its  greatest  success  ;  the  name  most  prom- 
inent in  the  early  history  of  the  art ;  a  long  time  before  the  art 
reached  its  greatest  excellence ;  reasons  for  it ;  the  chief  occurrences 
in  the  history  of  early  Greece  ;  what  gave  a  beginning  to  the  third 
great  monarchy  of  the  world  ;  the  destruction  of  the  Persian  army 
under  Xerxes,  its  eff'ect  upon  the  Grecian  character  and  particularly 
on  art  and  science  ;  sculpture,  its  appearance  at  this  auspicious  pe- 
riod in  the  school  of  Phidias  ;  the  destruction  of  the  city  and  cita- 
del of  Athens  a  fortunate  circumstance  for  art ;  its  connection  with 
the  rebuilding  of  temples  of  superior  beauty  under  the  reign  of  Per- 
icles and  superintendence  of  Phidias  ;  the  founding  of  a  library  at 
Athens,  and  the  works  of  Homer  ;  the  influence  of  these  works  on 
sculpture  ;  Phidias  the  first  to  avail  himself  of  the  works  of  Homer 
in  connection  Avith  sculpture  and  the  gods  of  Greece  ;  his  contempo- 
raries and  fellow-workers  in  the  great  reform  ;  the  temple  of  Mi- 
inerv'a  and  other  buildings  on  the  Acropolis  ;  Phidias,  Ictinus,  and 
Callicrates  ;  the  part  that  each  had  in  the  work  ;  Phidias's  knowl- 


XXIV  CONTENTS. 

edge  of  painting  ;  its  benefit  to  him  as  a  sculptor  ;  the  particular 
improvements  made  by  him  in  sculpture ;  Phidias  settled  the  forms 
of  some  of  the  gods,  particularly  of  Jupiter  and  Minerva ;  all  the 
forms  of  the  other  divinities  in  Homer  settled  by  him  and  his  suc- 
cessors, not  only  in  the  period  of  their  adult  perfection,  but  also  in 
their  infancy  and  youth ;  the  various  statues  of  Bacchus,  Apollo, 
Minerva,  and  other  deities  ;  the  resemblance  of  the  minor  deities 
dependent  on  nearness  of  relationship  to  the  father  of  the  gods ;  cor- 
poreal excellence  also  dependent  on  divinity  ;  as  the  character  re- 
cedes from  this  it  acquires  more  and  more  of  the  animal ;  examples 
of  this ;  the  Greek  artists  acted  upon  natural  and  general  laws ;  their 
perfection  in  sculpture  resulted  from  obedience  to  those  la-w-^  and  the 
forms  of  their- mythology ;  the  gods  of  Greece ;  wherein  they  differed 
from  those  of  other  idolatrous  nations  ;  in  what  distingiiished  from 
mortals  ;  perfection  in  art  only  reached  by  degrees  ;  illustrations  of 
this  from  painting  and  architecture  ;  same  progressiveness  in  sculp- 
ture ;  Phidias  and  Michael  Angelo  the  product  of  all  previous  art  ; 
I  united  effort,  the  benefit  of;  what  the  Greek  sculptors  first  aimed  at ; 
their  second  intent,  and  success  in  both ;  Apollo  Belvedere  and  Venus 
de  Medici ;  their  superior  beauty ;  the  class  of  beings  that  next  to  the 
gods  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Greek  sculptors  ;  the  third  class, 
a  class  repulsive  in  themselves,  but  rendered  attractive  fi'om  the  ele- 
gance with  which  they  are  executed  ;  what  we  miss  in  Greek  art  ; 
what  they  succeeded  in  ;  to  whom  it  remains  to  fill  up  the  gap  ; 
most  of  the  original  Greek  sculptures  lost ;  condition  of  those  that 
remain  ;  description  of  the  lost  statues  not  always  reliable  ;  names, 
description,  and  characteristics  of  those  introduced  into  this  volume. 


ESSAY    Xll. 
Grecian  Architecture 183 

Architecture ;  the  first  invented  of  the  fine  arts ;  the  term  "archi- 
tect," whence  derived  ;  divisions  of  architecture  ;  civil  architecture  ; 
the  kind  of  buildings  included  in  it ;  to  what  purposes  architecture 
first  appropriated  ;  art  divided  into  classes,  the  useful  and  the  fine 
arts  ;  a  distinction  without  a  difference  ;  evils  arising  from  being  so 
classified. 

Egyptian  architecture ;  its  characteristics  incidentally  pointed 
out. 

Grecian  arcliitecture  ;  the  several  orders  of;  the  term  "  order"  de- 
fined ;  the  several  parts  of  which  it  consists  stated  ;  additional  or- 
ders added  by  the  Romans  ;  the  term  employed  to  designate  the  five 


CONTENTS.  XXV 

orders  as  distinct  from  the  Gothic  and  all  other  architectures  ;  the 
parts  of  which  an  order  is  composed  ranged  under  two  heads,  the 
essential  and  the  subservient  ;  the  latter  class  the  mouldings  ;  their 
number,  names,  description  of,  and  how  appropriated. 

The  Doric  order  ;  time  when  invented  ;  description  of  its  constit- 
uent parts,  and  wherein  it  differs  from  the  Roman  Doric  ;  the  Ionic 
order  ;  its  several  portions  described  and  wherein  it  differs  from  the 
Roman  ;  the  Corinthian  order  ;  description  of,  etc.  ;  Sir  Roland 
Friart's  quaint  description  of  the  three  orders  ;  pediments  and 
pedestals  not  necessarily  included  in  the  idea  of  an  order  ;  ])edestal 
described  ;  certain  fixed  proportions  for  the  several  parts  of  an  or- 
der ;  everything  in  Greek  architecture  regulated  by  a  law  or  canon  ; 
this  not  conventional,  but  the  result  of  repeated  experiments  until 
the  right  point  was  arrived  at  ;  forms  of  Grecian  temples,  and 
names  deduced  therefrom  ;  the  Doric  -the  national  order,  and  first 
of  the  three  orders  used  in  Greece  ;  purpose  for  which  it  was  appro- 
priated ;  purposes  to  which  the  Corinthian  order  was  appropriated  ; 
philoso|)hical  reasons  for  the  appropriation  ;  architecture,  painting, 
and  sculpture  combined  in  the  Doric  temple  ;  the  first  subservient 
to  the  two  last  ;  form  of  the  Doric  temple  ;  exceptional  temples  of 
this  order  ;  the  proportions  of  the  Doric  column  only  slightly  varied 
\)nce  for  centuries  ;  in  its  greatest  perfection  in  the  Parthenon  ;  the 
pediments  of  the  Doric  temple  ;  to  what  use  appropriated  ;  the 
frieze  divided  into  metopes  and  triglyphs  ;  advantages  of  the  divis- 
ion ;  the  cell,  or  sekos,  or  body  of  the  temple,  to  what  sculptures 
appropriated  ;  in  Doric  temples  a  place  for  every  kind  of  sculpture  ; 
Doric  mouldings ;  their  simplicity  ;  portions  of  them  and  of  the 
frieze  painted  ;  painting  of  marble  not  accordant  with  modern 
ideas  ;  the  Greeks  the  better  judges  ;  the  finest  example  of  the 
Doric  order  ;  locality  of  the  Parthenon  ;  other  buildings  on  the 
Acropolis;  form  of  the  Parthenon,  and  material  of  which  con- 
structed ;  exterior  measurement  of  the  cell ;  how  the  interior  was 
divided  and  appropriated  ;  sculptures  of  the  pediment  and  frieze  ; 
how  the  Parthenon  became  dilapidated ;  facts  in  regard  to  its  struc- 
ture revealed  by  scientific  investigation. 

Temples  of  the  Ionic  order  ;  greater  variety  in  the  form  of  than 
in  the  Doric  ;  the  most  beautiful  example  of ;  size  of  the  Ionic 
temples  as  compared  with  the  Doric ;  the  latter  comitaratively 
small ;  reasons  for  it. 

Temples  of  the  Corinthian  order  ;  this  the  only  order  really  in- 
vented by  the  Greeks  ;  the  other  two  adopted  by  them,  but  treated 
with  a  certain  Grecian  feeling ;  the  finest  specimen  of  this  order  ; 
the  Doric  without  painting  and  sculpture  less  beautiful  than  the 
Corinthian,  but  with  them  unsurpassed. 


XXVI  CONTENTS. 

Grecian  architecture  characterized  for  grandeur,  dignity,  elegance, 
and  beauty ;  causes  whence  arises  the  impression  of ;  cannot  be  thor- 
oughly understood  without  a  knowledge  of  certain  peculiarities  con- 
nected with  its  history  and  practice  ;  those  peculiarities  stated  ;  in 
what  respects.  Grecian  architecture  is  inferior  to  the  Egyptian  and 
Gothic,  and  in  what  respects  it  surpasses  them  and  all  other  archi- 
tecture, ancient  or  modern ;  the  philosophical  reasons  for  this  given ; 
the  result. 

ESSAY    XIII. 

Roman  Architecture 206 

Roman  architecture  differs  widely  from  the  Greek  ;  wherein  it 
differs  ;  ornamentation  carried  to  excess  ;  the  arch  brought  into 
general  use,  but  not  invented  by  them  ;  had  the  greatest  influence 
on  their  style  of  architecture  ;  the  Roman  Doric  column,  descrip- 
tion of,  and  wherein  it  differs  from  the  Greek  ;  the  Tuscan  column, 
description  of. 

The  composite  order,  how  made  up  ;  Sir  Roland  Friart's  quaint 
description  of  it  and  the  Tuscan  ;  the  Romans  were  further  indebted 
to  the  Greeks  for  the  form  of  their  temples  ;  the  first  thing  they 
borrowed  ;  the  Corinthian  order,  well  suited  for  their  purposes  ; 
reasons  why  ;  the  Doric  order,  also  borrowed,  but  not  made  much 
account  of ;  reason  why ;  the  Ionic  order,  not  adopted  by  the  Ro- 
mans until  a  very  late  period  ;  also  borrowed  the  peristyle  form  of 
their  temples  ;  no  sijecimen  of  it  now  in  Rome  ;  something  that 
claims  to  be  ;  wherein  it  differs  ;  the  temples  at  Rome  small  in 
dimensions  ;  the  largest  specimens  were  in  the  provinces,  particu- 
larly in  Syria  ;  Syria  to  Rome  what  Ionia  was  to  Greece  ;  temples  at 
Baalbec  ;  temples  the  most  original  and  tj^pical  ;  the  Pantheon  ; 
its  characteristics  ;  its  external  original  form  ;  how  ruined  ;  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  both  borrowed,  but  not  in  the  same  Avay  ;  dif- 
ference in  that  respect ;  difference  in  their  religious  and  aesthetic 
feelings ;  Rome  anciently  adorned  with  buildings  in  their  kind 
as  wonderful  as  any  in  Greece  ;  the  Coliseum  an  example  and 
type  of  the  Roman  style,  contains  all  its  beauties  and  all  its  de- 
fects ;  its  ruins  still  wonderful ;  description  of ;  wherein  the  style 
was  defective  ;  how  it  might  have  been  improved  ;  Eoman  archi- 
tecture ;  what  is  most  admired  in  it  ;  in  what  way  it  was  often 
spoiled  ;  little  invention  in  ancient  Roman  art  ;  exception  to  this  ; 
to  what  it  chiefly  owes  its  interest  ;  in  ancient  times  all  the  treas- 
ures of  the  world  poured  into  Rome  ;  in  modern  times  almost  every- 
thing of  value  to  be  traced  out  of  her  ;  the  concluding  scene  of  the 
old,  the  opening  one  of  modern  civilization. 


CONTEXTS.  XXYll 


ESSAY    XIV. 

Gothic  Architecture 212 

The  class  of  architecture  the  term  was  employed  to  designate 


minor 


how  the  term  came  to  be  emx)loyed  ;  many  speculations  concer 
the  origin  of  Gothic  architecture ;  all  fanciful ;  the  real  origin ;  only 
two  original  styles  of  architecture  in  the  world  ;  all  other  styles 
contained  in  the  two  typical  styles  ;  what  style  Greek  architecture 
is  the  type  of;  what  Gothic  architecture  is  the  type  of;  Roman 
architecture  the  transition  form  between  Greek  and  Gothic  archi- 
tecture ;  Greek  and  Gothic  architecture  directly  the  opposite  of 
each  other  ;  the  characteristics  of  each  style  given  at  length  ;  few 
changes  ever  made  in  Greek  architecture  ;  Gothic  constantly  chan- 
ging ;  three  styles  of ;  how  designated  ;  the  Early  English,  the 
Decorated,  and  the  Perpendicular  ;  the  time  when  they  flourished  ; 
impossible  to  describe  the  details  of  the  three  styles  ;  the  great 
characteristic  difference,  in  what  it  consists  ;  the  Early  English, 
its  particular  characteristics  ;  the  Decorated  style,  its  particular 
characteristics  ;  general  appearance  of  buildings  of  this  style  ;  what 
parricularly  distinguishes  it ;  finest  specimen  of  this  style  in  Eng- 
land ;  the  Perpendicular  style  ;  characteristics  of  ;  propriety  of  the 
name  ;  what  it  consists  in  ;  the  entire  building  marked  by  the  same 
characteristic  seen  in  the  windows  ;  another  peculiarity  the  opposite 
of  the  Perpendicular  ;  peculiarity  in  the  roofs  ;  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury the  Perpendicular  the  style  for  every  kind  of  building  ;  Gothic 
architecture  in  France  ;  its  transition  from  one  form  or  style  to 
another. 

Tudor  style  of  architecture  ;  to  what  style  of  Gothic  architecture 
applied ;  number  of  eras  of ;  whence  the  Tudor  style  originated ; 
its  peculiar  characteristics  ;  a  mixed  style  ;  cause  of  its  introduc- 
tion ;  by  whom  fostered.  Elizabethan  style  of  architecture  ;  style 
of  the  castles  in  England  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII. ;  how  modified 
in  the  rime  of  Elizabeth  ;  the  eff"ect  of  the  change.  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth style  of  architecture ;  like  the  Elizabethan  a  mixed  style  ; 
this  illustrated  by  the  Palace  at  Versailles  ;  form  of  that  structure  ; 
the  Mansard  roof  ;  whence  it  derived  its  name  ;  a  beautiful  inven- 
tion. The  Italian  style  ;,  its  peculiar  characteristic  ;  examples  of ; 
Famese  and  Grand  Duke  palaces,  by  Michael  Angelo  at  Florence. 
Modem  architecture  ;  no  new  principle  invented  by  the  moderns  ; 
they  have  made  new  combinations,  often  very  beautiful  and  exhibit- 
ing great  powers  of  invention  ;  their  gi-eatest  success  in  domestic 
architecture  ;  in  the  public  structures  less  successful ;  cause  of  this 
not  so  much  in  the  architect  as  in  his  employees  ;  not  sufficient  at- 


XX  Vm  C02^  TENTS. 

tention  paid  by  the  moderns  to  the  selection  of  a  site  ;  that  point 
chiefly  considered  by  the  Greeks,  and  hence  much  of  the  favorable 
impression  made  by  their  architectural  efforts  ;  the  effect  of  light 
and  shade  on  buildings  not  sufficiently  considered,  and  hence  great 
disappointment ;  not  possible  to  overstate  the  evil  resulting  from 
the  neglect  of  these  retiuirements. 


CONCLUSION. 

Object  aimed  at  in  this  volume  ;  the  design  a  good  one,  even  though 
not  successfully  accomplished  ;  great  ignorance  of  the  principles 
of  art  both  in  this  country  and  in  England  ;  the  advance  of  art 
in  any  country  dependent  not  more  on  the  artist  than  on  the  patron; 
the  standard  of  the  former  regulated  by  the  standard  of  the  latter, 
the  supply  being  in  all  cases  governed  by  the  demand  ;  too  little 
time  given  both  in  England  and  in  the  United  States  to  learning  the 
elements  of  the  arts  ;  we  commence  to  color  before  we  can  draw  ; 
more  attention  given  to  drawing  and  design  in  both  France  and 
Germany,  but  signs  even  there  of  coming  neglect  indicated  by  the 
frequent  use  of  th^  camera,  and  the  attention  given  to  imitation 
of  stuffs  rather  than  to  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  human  form 
as  acted  upon  by  the  mind  and  the  affections  ;  not  so  with  the  old 
Italians,  and  hence  their  superiority  in  art  representations  ;  excel- 
lence in  art  always  implies  labor  in  the  preparation  for  it ;  that  labor 
properly  bestowed  necessarily  leads  to  favorable  results  ;  the  mod- 
erns cannot  repeat  what  they  have  done  ;  they  can  apply  the  princi- 
ples they  have  discovered  to  new  combinations,  and  thus  benefit 
those  who  come  after  as  they  have  been  benefited  by  those  who 
have  preceded  them. 


Terms  used  in  ARcniTEcxuRE 227 

Catalogue  of  Works  of  Art  to  which  reference  is  made  in 

THIS  volume 232 

General  Index 241 


DESCRJPTION  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


The  Angel  Raphael,  by  Raphael. 

The  original  of  the  above-named  ilhistration  constitutes  a  portion  of  a 
painting  now  and  for  a  long  time  in  Madrid ;  but  whether  it  belongs  to  the 
Spanish  government  or  is  the  property  of  some  fortunate  individual,  it 
doubtless  is  one  of  the  finest  conceptions  of  a  master  whose  leading  charac- 
teristic is  expression. 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  Paradise  Lost  need  not  be  reminded  that 
Raphael  is  the  name  of  the  angel  selected  by  the  Almighty  to  announce  to 
Adam  Satan's  intention  to  deceive  him.  T]ie  description  therein  given  of 
the  person  of  this  "favorite  and  most  beautiful  of  the  angelic  host,"  of  his 
departure  from  the  gates  of  Heaven  "on  golden  hinges  turning,"  his 
downward  progress  through  the  sky,  passing  between  worlds  on  worlds, 
until  at  last  he  alights  on  the  eastern  cliffs  of  Paradise,  is  surpassed  by 
nothing  in  the  poem,  and  finds  a  parallel  only  in  the  work  of  the  painter. 
Of  course  Raphael  was  not  at  all  indebted  to  Milton  for  anything  in  his 
delineation,  as  the  painter  preceded  the  poet ;  but  if  Milton  ever  saw  the 
painting,  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive  that  he  may  have  derived  somewhat 
of  his  inspiration  from  Eaphael,  as  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  with  a 
poetic  turn  of  mind  to  contemplate  even  for  a  moment  so  divine  a  work, 
and  not  imbibe  something  of  that  sublime  feeling  that  gave  birth  to  the 
original  in  the  mind  of  its  author. 

There  was  nothing  in  which  the  old  Italian  painters  more  excelled  than 
in  their  delineations  of  the  heavenly  messengers,  and  no  human  eifort  has 
so  contributed  to  keep  up  the  idea  of  a  connection  between  that  world  and 
this.  If  there  be  such  existences  "around  the  throne,"  and  they  are  per- 
mitted to  visit  this  earth,  may  it  not  be  that  for  some  kind  and  wise  pur- 
pose one  of  these  heavenly  messengers  revealed  himself  to  the  "rapt 
vision  "  of  Raphael  ? 

The  Paisixg  of  Lazarus. 

The  joint  production  of  Michael  Anrjelo  and  Sebastiano  del  Piomho.  The  design 
by  the  former,  the  paintwfj  by  the  latter,  excepting  the  figure  of  Lazarus, 
painted  by  Michael  Angelo  himself. 

This  great  work  was  executed  for  Julio  de  ^Medici,  Bishop  of  Narbonne, 
afterwards  Clement  VII.  ;  then  became  the  property  of  the  Duke  of  Or- 


XXX  DESCEIPTION   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

leans,  at  the  sale  of  whose  gallery  in  1794  it  was  purchased  by  an  English 
gentleman,  Mr.  Angerstein,  and  on  his  decease  in  1824  it  was  bought  by 
the  British  government,  and  now  forms  the  greatest  attraction  among  the 
many  valuable  works  of  art  in  the  National  Gallery,  London.  Mr.  Beck- 
ford,  the  author  of  Vathek,  once  offered  Mr.  Angerstein  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  for  it,  but  it  was  not  accepted.  We  mention  the  fact,  not  as 
a  measure  of  its  value,  for  the  price  paid  for  a  painting  is  not  a  criterion  by 
which  to  estimate  its  merits,  certainly  not  of  one  so  unique  as  this. 

The  original,  although  not  of  the  same  form,  covers  about  as  much  can- 
vas as  *'  The  Transfiguration,"  by  Eaphael,  in  competition  with  which  it  is 
said  to  have  been  painted.  They  both  represent  the  same  idea,  namely, 
**  Christ  as  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Son  of  "Man,"  the  executor  of  Divine 
power  and  the  reliever  of  human  misery. 

Sir  Charles  Bell,  the  celebrated  English  surgeon  and  anatomist,  at  the 
time  it  was  placed  in  the  above  institution  severely  criticised  the  figure  of 
Lazarus  as  not  presenting  any  marks  of  previous  illness,  forgetting  that 
this  apparent  condition  of  the  ^ody  at  the  moment  of  restoration  may  have 
been  regarded  by  the  painter  as  a  part  of  the  miracle. 

When  once  viewing  this  painting,  in  company  with  a  then  classmate, 
and  now  perhaps  the  first  of  English  sculptors,  John  Bell,  I  had  my  atten- 
tion drawn  by  him  to  an  appearance  of  gi-eater  vitality  in  that  part  of 
the  figure  of  Lazarus  nearest  Christ.  This  may  have  been  only  a  happy 
conceit  on  the  part  of  my  friend,  for  I  cannot,  after  the  lapse  of  forty  years, 
say  whether  my  own  observation  confirmed  the  statement. 

No  one  who  has  ever  seen  the  painting  can  for  a  moment  doubt  that  it 
is  a  great  composition,  and  the  figure  of  Lazarus  a  remarkable  conception. 
Charles  Lamb,  in  Elia,  speaks  of  it  as  one  "transcending  which  the  world 
has  nothing  to  show  of  the  preternatural  in  the  Avhole  circle  of  art."  "It 
seems,"  continues  Lamb,  "  a  thing  between  two  beings  :  a  ghostly  horror 
of  itself  struggles  with  newly  apprehended  gratitude  for  second  life  be- 
stowed ;  it  cannot  foi-get  that  it  was  a  ghost ;  it  has  hardly  felt  that  it  has 
a  body  ;  it  has  a  story  to  tell  from  the  world  of  spirits." 

This  is  the  painting  that  finally  destroyed  Mr.  West's  great  reputation 
as  a  successful  delineator  of  scriptural  subjects,  when,  after  his  decease, 
what  was  once  considered  his  master  effort  in  that  department,  "Christ 
healing  the  Sick,"  was  hung  in  the  National  Gallery  by  the  side  of  this 
amazing  production  of  Michael  Angelo. 

A  Head  from  a  Painting  in  the  Louvre,  by  Titian. 

If  Raphael  excelled  in  the  delineation  of  divine  beauty,  no  one  of  the 
old  masters  surpassed  Titian  in  the  representation  of  that  of  earth.  And 
of  all  his  efforts  of  the  kind  we  know  of  none  that  exceeds  the  beauty  of 
the  original  painting  from  which  this  was  taken. 


DESCRIPTION   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  XXXI 

The  ancient  Greeks  had  their  celestial  and  their  earthly  beauties,  —  the 
first  of  which  found  its  representation  in  the  "Venus  Urania"  by  Phidias, 
the  last  in  the  "  Venus  de  Medici"  by  Cleomenes.  Whether  the  statue  of 
the  former  is  now  in  existence  we  know  not ;  we  have  never  seen  even  a 
drawing  of  it,  and  cannot  therefore  tell  whether  its  celestial  beauty  was 
in  the  general  form  of  the  figure,  or  the  head,  or  the  expression,  or  all 
unitedly.  But  by  comparing  this  head  with  that  of  the  Angel  Raphael,  or 
the  head  of  any  of  the  best  of  the  Madonnas,  we  can  easily  understand  in 
what  celestial  beauty  consisted  in  Christian  art. 

Culture  and  refinement  of  thought  and  feeling  may  give  beauty  to  a  face 
of  almost  any  form,  and  spirituality  may  illumine  it  to  a  point  of  celestial 
brightness ;  but  the  inner  harmony  will  always  receive  an  added  beauty 
when  accompanied  by  an  harmonious  proportion  of  the  outward  form. 

The  original  of  this  illustration  is  said  to  be  a  portrait  of  Titian's  wife. 
In  the  painting  she  is  represented  looking  into  a  mirror  held  by  the  artist. 
If  it  be  a  true  resemblance  of  her,  with  such  a  source  of  inspiration  con- 
stantly before  him  we  can  readily  understand  how  so  many  visions  of  beauty 
came  to  be  mirrored  forth  by  the  great  Venetian  master  from  the  reflecting 
canvas. 

The  Woman  accused  in  the  Synagogue,  by  Rembrandt. 

The  painting  represented  by  this  illustration  belongs  to  the  British  gov- 
ernment, and  among  the  cabinet  pictures  in  the  National  Gallery  holds  the 
same  high  rank  which  "The  Raising  of  Lazarus"  does  among  the  larger  ones. 
It  is  the  most  characteristic  work  of  an  artist  "around  whose  pencil  floated 
mystery  and  silence,  and  to  whom  all  that  was  great,  striking,  and  uncom- 
mon in  the  scenery  of  nature  was  familiar."  The  magic  power  of  chiaro- 
oscuro  here  exhibited  is  very  wonderful,  and  finds  its  equal  only  in  the 
"Del  Xotte,"  or  "Nativity,"  by  Correggio,  in  which  composition  all  the 
light  emanates  from  the  person  of  the  infant  Saviour,  which  is  self-lumin- 
ous like  a  glowworm.  No  other  design  with  which  we  are  acquainted 
better  represents  the  value  of  masses  of  light  and  shadow  in  ^ving 
breadth  and  picturesque  eff"ect  to  a  composition  than  does  this  great  work 
of  Rembrandt. 

Titian's  Bunch  of  Grapes. 

So  called  from  its  being  the  model  suggested  by  him  for  an  effective  man- 
agement of  light  and  dark  in  a  painting.  Although  to  the  eye  this  is  a  very 
humble  illustration,  yet  it  involves  a  great  principle,  namely,  that  which 
regards  the  employment  of  a  general  light  and  shadow  to  give  beauty  and 
effect  to  an  object  or  clusters  of  objects  in  addition  to  the  particular  ligM 
and  shade  by  which  objects  both  in  nature  and  art  are  made  out  to  the  eye, 
and  without  which  nothing  would  be  visible  in  the  world  about  us.    No.  1 


XXXll  DESCRIPTION    OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

is  an  example  of  a  drawing  made  only  with  the  particular  light  and 
shadow,  such  as  falls  on  each  object  in  a  cloudy  day.  No.  2  is  an  exam- 
ple of  a  drawing  with  a  general  light  and  shadow  added,  such  as  falls  on 
objects  in  a  sunshiny  day,  or  by  candle  or  fire  light,  illuminating  oue 
portion  and  leaving  the  other  portion  in  comparative  darkness.  In  both 
the  Kembrandt  and  in  this  drawing  of  the  Bunch  of  Grapes  the  lights  and 
shadow^s  are  in  masses,  but  they  result  from  different  causes.  In  the  Rem- 
brandt the  ordinary  light  is  probably  admitted  through  a  window  or  Avin- 
dows,  or  .some  other  opening,  or  it  is  a  candle-light  illumination.  In  either 
case  the  light  is  interrupted  by  some  intervening  objects,  and  the  result  is 
what  we  see,  namely,  large  masses  of  light  and  shadow.  In  the  Bunch  of 
Grapes  the  masses  are  produced  as  before  stated.  Of  the  two  draAvings  of 
the  Bunch  of  Grapes  there  can  be  no  doubt  which  is  the  more  picturesque, 
and  they  illustrate  by  comparison  the  value  of  a  general  light  and  shadow 
in  a  composition  to  give  breadth  and  effect. 

The  several  Orders  of  Classic  Architecture. 

To  understand  at  all  the  subject  of  Grecian  and  Roman  architecture,  it 
becomes  necessary  for  us  to  know  not  only  the  general  form  of  the  several 
orders,  but  likewise  to  be  acquainted  with  the  essential  and  also  Avith  the 
less  imposing  parts  of  Avhich  those  orders  are  composed,  namely,  the 
mouldings.  And  a  knowledge  of  the  several  forms  of  mouldings,  their 
special  use,  and  the  place  which  they  are  intended  to  occupy,  will  appear 
the  more  necessary  when  we  have  found  out  that  they  are  the  great  source 
of  beauty  in  every  architectural  arrangement,  and  that  without  them  any 
building,  however  well  proportioned,  would  be  bald,  monotonous,  and 
shorn  of  a  large  portion  of  that  which  attracts,  exercises,  and  satisfies  tlie 
beholder.  Therefore  the  reader  pursuing  the  subject  of  architecture  should 
not  neglect  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  details  of  the  orders. 

The  three  Styles  of  Gothic  Windows. 

These  windows  by  their  different  forms  give  a  general  idea  of  the  differ- 
ence of  style  that  characterized  the  three  eras  of  Gothic  architecture  : 
the  Early  English,  which  was  bald,  simple,  and  mean  ;  the  Decorated, 
which  was  varied  and  ornamental ;  and  the  Perpendicular,  which  changed 
the  curved  and  beautiful  lines  of  the  Decorated  to  straight  and  perpendicu- 
lar lines,  and  to  such  a  degree  throughout  the  exterior  and  interior  of  the 
ornamented  portion  of  the  entire  building  as  to  give  an  appropriateness 
to  the  name  for  that  style  and  era  of  Gothic  architecture. 


ART: 

ITS  LAWS,  AND  THE  REASONS  FOR  THEM. 


ESSAY    I. 

PERSONAL    BEAUTY. 

AMONG  the  many  interesting  topics  that  present  them- 
selves for  consideration  in  the  treatment  of  this  vast 
subject  of  Art,  as  taste  always  has  beauty  of  some  sort  or 
other  for  its  object,  the  attention  is  naturally  first  invited  to 
an  examination  of  its  principles,  and  especially  those  of  per- 
sonal beauty,  as  we  believe  them  to  have  been  exhibited  in 
the  primitive  creation,  as  we  see  them  developed  in  the  living- 
world  around  us,  and  as  we  find  them  embodied  in  some  of 
the  sculptured  productions  of  ancient  Greece. 

There  is,  perhaps,  no  subject  of  human  contemplation  more 
interesting  in  itself  and  more  fi-equently  the  to^Dic  of  conver- 
sation, and  that  exercises  a  greater  influence  over  the  actions 
and  affections  of  men,  than  that  of  personal  beauty ;  and  yet 
is  there  none  whose  principles  are  so  imperfectly  comprehended 
by  the  mass,  and  even  by  many  of  an  otherwise  refined  and  / 
cultivated  taste.  '  \ 

This  is  the  necessary  result  of  three  causes  :  first,  that  no  \ 
one  is  bom  with  a  knowledge  of  them  ;  second,  that  few  make 
them  a  subject  of  study  ;  and  third,  that  those  who  do  de- 
rive little  or  no  assistance  from  writers  upon  this  theme,  — for, 
singular  as  it  may  be,  it  is  none  the  less  true,  that  no  intelligi- 
ble and  generally  accepted  theory  of  beauty  is  now  to  be  found 
in  any  author,  ancient  or  modem. 


2  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

Some  partial  admeasurements  of  human  beauty  have  indeed 
come  down  to  us  incidentally  from  the  ancient  Greeks,  and  the 
finest  embodiment  of  them  is  to  be  found  in  some  of  their 
sculptured  relics  ;  but  no  complete  theory  for  our  guide  and 
enlightenment  has  been  transmitted  to  us  from  that  great  and 
polished  people. 

Within  the  last  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  commencing  with 
Hogarth  and  ending  with  Cousin,  many  essays  have  been  written 
upon  beauty ;  but  it  has  been  the  fate  of  each  to  sway  only  for 
a  while  the  public  taste,  and  then  to  give  place  to  another  as 
unintelligible  and  unsatisfactory  as  that  which  preceded  it. 

Whether  the  present  essay  will  throw  new  light  upon  a 
subject  so  imperfectly  comprehended  and  mysterious,  we  know 
not ;  yet,  as  it  has  been  prepared  with  a  knowledge  of  previous 
defects,  and  with  the  design  of  accepting  w^hatever  has  been 
generally  conceded  to  be  true,  and  rejecting  whatever  is  gene- 
rally acknowledged  to  be  false,  we  have  some  reasonable  ground 
for  hoping  to  present,  in  a  concise  and  intelligible  form,  some 
more  precise  information  than  ordinarily  obtains  of  the  true 
nature  and  conditions,  not  only  of  that  living  beauty  that 
everywhere  surrounds  us,  but  likewise  of  that  greater  personal 
perfection  that,  at  starting,  we  shall  assume  to  have  character- 
ized the  first  created  of  the  great  human  family;  which,  how- 
ever, was  subsequently  more  or  less  maiTed  in  their  descendants 
by  over-indulgence  of  the  passions  and  appetites,  and  the 
diseases  and  infirmities  consequent  thereon,  which  Nature  at 
every  new  birth  endeavors  but  ever  fails  thoroughly  to  connect, 
but  which  in  its  complete  restoration  is  now  only  to  be  found 
in  some  of  the  ancient  Greek  sculptures,  and  particularly  the 
Apollo  Belvedere  and  Venus  de  Medici,  —  two  well-known  mar- 
ble statues  that  competent  judges  of  all  civilized  and  polite 
nations  have  for  a  long  period  agi'eed  to  regard  as  a  standard  or 
law  of  beauty  for  the  entire  human  race,  and  that  because 
they  combine,  beyond  all  other  known  forms,  whether  in  natm-e 
or  art,  those  physical  perfections  that  once  centred  in  the 
father  and  mother  of  mankind.  But  whether  the  Greeks  have 
or  have  not  in  these  forms  reached  the  perfect  beauty  of  the 


PKRSOXAL   BEAUTY.  3 

primitive  crecation  will  not  at  all  impair  the  coiTectness  of  that 
theory  of  beauty  to  be  presented  in  this  essay.  And  so  of  all 
the  great  works,  whether  in  sculpture  or  painting  or  archi- 
tecture, which,  in  the  course  of  these  essays,  we  shall  employ  to 
illustrate  any  principle  of  taste,  it  may  be  well  enough  here  to 
remark,  that,  whether  their  merits  or  demerits  may  or  may  not 
justify  our  criticisms  in  regard  to  them,  the  art  principle  they 
are  employed  to  explain  will  be  no  less  true,  and,  as  we  trust, 
as  well  understood  ;  the  reasoning  may  be  sound,  even  though 
the  example  adduced  to  illustrate  them  be  imperfect. 

Our  endeavor  will  be  to  show  that  in  the  Apollo  and  Venus  de  ^ 
Medici  —  the  figures  chosen  in  this  essay  as  standards  of  form  — 
the  Greek  sculptors  have  reached  the  excellence  of  the  primitive 
creation.     But  whether  we  succeed  or  fail  in  establishing  that  / 
fact  in  regard  to  these  particular  examples,  our  argument  may 
not  be  in  vain ;  for  unless  it  be  that  the  father  and  mother  of 
mankind  were  created  physically  perfect,  —  that  is,  were  models 
of  the  species,  and  that  whatever  claims  to  be  regarded  as  a 
standard  of  fomi  is  a  reproduction  or  faithful  representation  in 
some  measurable  material  of  the  external  form  of  those  models,  — 
it  is  to  no  purpose  that  we  talk,  as  we  constantly  do,  of  personal  \ 
beauty,  as  there  can  be  nothing  to  which  to  refer  it,  no  law  by 
which  to  judge  of  the  degrees  of  it,  —  in  short,  no  foundation  to 
build  a  theory  on. 

We  are  not  ignorant  that  there  are  those,  and  among  them 
that  great  naturalist  Agassiz,  who  incline  to  the  belief  that  the 
great  human  family  is  not  descended  fi'om  a  single  pair  or  stock, 
but  that  man  first  appeared  upon  the  earth  in  groups  or  num- 
bers, simultaneously  created,  and  geographically  divided  as  at 
present ;  each  group  corresponding  in  its  several  character- 
istics of  form,  feature,  disposition,  temperament,  color,  etc.  to 
those  of  the  several  races  or  varieties  of  the  human  family  now 
upon  the  earth. 

This,  if  true,  might  at  first  thought  seem  fatal  to  one  essential 
portion  of  our  theory,  namely,  that  which  makes  the  perfection 
of  a  standard  to  consist  in  a  strict  conformity  to  the  original 
creation,  on   account  of  the   seeming  impossibility,  amid   this 


4  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

great  variety,  of  finding  the  perfect  type.  But  the  objection  is 
not  irremovable,  inasmuch  as  there  may  have  been  not  only 
degrees  of  excellence  in  the  several  groups,  but  also  among  the 
individuals  of  the  same  group,  and  if  so,  there  must  necessarily 
have  been  one  of  each  sex  who  possessed  qualities  of  form  that 
exalted  him  above  the  others,  and  such  would  have  an  un- 
doubted claim  to  be  considered  the  most  perfect  type  of  the 
species,  and  those  to  which  the  standard  should  conform ;  in 
which  view  of  the  matter  our  theory  would  not  be  seriously 
affected,  even  if  the  deductions  of  science  were  entitled  to  more 
credence  than  the  Scriptural  record. 

There  are  those,  again,  who  take  a  much  humbler  view  of 
man's  primary  condition  ;  who  maintain  that  he  is  only  a  better 
development,  an  improved  offshoot,  of  some  inferior  creation. 
This  is  the  new  progressive  theory  of  Darwin.  Now,  as  this 
theory  implies  the  utter  impossibility  of  a  standard,  inasmuch 
as  it  does  not  admit  of  a  point  where  perfection  is  reached,  and 
does  not  in  any  way  solve  the  mystery  of  creation,  or  at  all  ac- 
count for  the  various  phenomena  connected  therewith,  and, 
besides,  is  so  entirely  at  variance  with  the  supposed  complete- 
ness of  the  creation  of  some  other  animals,  each  division  of 
which  has  manifested  no  improvement  that  we  are  acquainted 
with  since  the  day  they  were  first  planted  upon  the  earth,  and 
are  still  considered  perfect,  and,  furthermore,  so  fixes,  in  this 
view  of  the  case,  the  stamp  of  inferiority  upon  that  being  whom 
reason  and  revelation  and  science  and  common  sense  have  ever 
taught  us  to  regard  as  the  head  of  creation,  that  we  shall  make 
no  serious  attempt  to  refute  it,  but  simply  say  we  do  not  be- 
lieve it  any  more  than  we  believe  that  the  Greek  or  any  other 
sculptors  or  painters  have  produced  from  the  imagination  forms 
or  figures  more  beautiful  than  ever  proceeded  fi'om  the  hands 
of  the  Almighty,  as  that  would  be  to  suppose  that  they  knew 
better  than  the  Almighty  how  man  should  be  created,  —  which 
is  not  only  absurd,  but  discovers  on  the  part  of  those  who 
believe  it  an  ignorance  of  the  true  character  of  ideal  beauty,  the 
highest  type  of  which,  as  will  presently  be  demonstrated,  can 
be  nothin<-^  more  or  less  than  the  highest  type  of  natural  beauty. 


PERSONAL  BEAUTY.  5 

it  consisting  simply  in  combining  into  one  congenial  mass  the 
now  divided  beauties  of  the  human  race,  thus  doing  for  man 
only  that  which  Cuvier  and  other  naturalists  have  done  for*^ 
some  of  the  lower  and  lost  orders  of  creation,  namely,  recon- 
structing the  entire  animal,  guided  by  the  structure  of  a  single 
bone,  congeniality  alone  being  the  law  or  requirement. 

Besides  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  the  Venus  de  Medici,  to 
illustrate  this  discourse,  we  shall  have  occasion,  in  the  course 
of  it,  to  refer  to  other  of  the  Grecian  statues,  —  the  Minerva 
Athene,  the  Mercury,  the  Hunting  Diana,  the  Hercules  Farnese, 
and  the  Venus  of  Milo  ;  and  to  what  is  said  respecting  them  we 
must  invite  the  undivided  attention,  as,  in  order  to  get  any  cor- 
rect idea  of  the  true  nature  and  conditions  of  living  beauty,  of 
that  which  everywhere  surrounds  us,  it  is  just  as  necessary  to 
penetrate  the  design  of  the  ancient  Greeks  in  these  statues,  as 
it  was  for  Moses  to  smite  the  rock  in  the  wilderness  that  the 
waters  might  gush  out. 

Of  the  many  theories  of  beauty  that  have  been  given  to  the^ 
world  by  modern  writers,  had  it  been  consistent  with  the  plan 
of  these  discourses,  it  would  have  been  pleasant  to  have  ex- 
amined the  most  important ;  but  as  time  and  space  will  not 
permit,  suffice  it  to  state,  that,  dividing  them  all  into  two 
classes,  the  great  fundamental  difference  between  them  is  this, 
namely,  that  one  portion  regards  beauty  as  an  inherent  indepen- 
dent quality  of  objects,  something  abiding  and  residing  in  them 
whether  we  perceive  and  derive  pleasure  from  it  or  not ;  while 
another  portion  considers  it  as  a  contingency,  sometimes  making 
the  pleasure  arising  from  the  contemplation  of  an  object  the 
measure  of  its  excellence,  and  that  pleasure,  as  in  the  theory  of 
Mr.  Alison,  dependent  on  some  associations  awakened  in  the 
mind  of  the  beholder,  or,  as  with  Hogarth,  the  perception  of 
some  quality,  as  that  of  fitness,  utility,  and  the  like. 

Now  it  is  very  apparent  that  the  theory  that  recognizes  the 
first  position,  namely,  the  inherent  quality  of  beauty,  is  right  as 
fiir  as  it  goes,  as  it  rests  upon  an  unchanging  foundation  ;  and  that 
the  theory  which  rejects  it  is  wrong,  as  it  has  no  foundation  at 
all,  —  the  first  finding  its  law  or  rule  in  an  unalterable  standard  ; 


b  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

while  the  last,  disclaiming  all  standard,  receives  as  law  the  ever- 
varying  decisions  of  each  changing  imagination. 

Now  there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  pleasure  with 
which  one  contemplates  any  object  esteemed  beautiful  is 
enhanced  by  the  associations  awakened  in  the  mind  of  the  be- 
holder, —  as  in  viewing  the  Elgin  marbles,  for  instance,  to  know 
that  they  were  executed  by  that  great  sculptor  Phidias,  and 
once  made  a  portion  of  the  frieze  of  the  Parthenon  ;  and  no 
objection  can  be  raised  to  the  position  of  Hogarth,  that  our 
admiration  is  increased  by  the  perception  of  design  or  fitness  in 
any  object,  or  the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends, — as  the  slim, 
light  form  of  the  greyhound,  the  hunting  Diana,  and  the  Mer- 
cury, for  activity  or  fleetness,  and  the  muscular  structure  of  the 
Hercules,  the  lion,  the  tiger,  and  the  mastiff  for  strength ;  and 
that  admiration  is  still  further  increased  by  the  observance  of 
utility  in  any  object,  as  in  the  adaptation  of  an  ornamented 

/  fountain  to  the  purposes  of  bathing.  Still  it  is  to  be  maintained "" 
that  neither  association  nor  fitness  nor  utility  make  any  por- 
tion of  the  beauty  of  an  object,  of  that  to  which  we  apply  the 
epithet  "  beautiful  "  ;  and  especially  is  utility  to  be  rejected  from 
among  the  elements  of  beauty,  however  much  our  admiration 
may  be  increased  by  the  perception  of  it,  or  it  follows,  as  a 
necessary  consequence,  that  whatever  enters  into  the  comjDOsi- 
tion  of  any  object,  beyond  what  is  required  to  enable  it  to  per- 
form some  necessary  duty,  is  out  of  place,  and  consequently  an 
excrescence,  a  deformity,  —  which  is  so  far  from  being  true,  that 
the  highest  beauty  of  objects  will  generally  be  found  to  reside 
in  the  ornamental  part,  in  that  which  was  not  absolutely  re- 
quired, and  without  which  those  useful  duties  (employing  the 
tenn  "useful  "  in  its  vulgar  acceptation)  might  have  been  as  well 
accomplished.  This  is  certainly  true  in  architecture,  as  a  plain 
rough  post  would  as  well  support  an  entablature  as  a  finished 

;    ornamented  column.     Nor  is  it  otherwise  in  regard  to  the  hu- 
man   structure,  for  an   ill-formed   eye   or  nose   or  mouth  will 
perform  all  the  offices  required  of  them  as  well  as  when  those 
/    features  have  all  the  outward  forms  of  beauty.    The  truth  is,  the 
Autlior  of  our  being,  in  the  great  work  of  creation,  had  sufficient 


PERSONAL   BEAUTY.  7 

ill  the  storehouse  of  his  abundance  for  ornament  as  well  as 
for  use  ;  he  chose,  therefore,  not  only  to  consult  his  beneficence 
in  providing  for  the  necessities  of  man,  but  likewise  his  fane?/  in 
gratifying  his  taste.  Having  implanted  in  man  a  love  of  tlie 
beautiful,  he  then  supplied  the  means  of  satisfying  it,  and  those 
means,  as  far  as  human  beauty  is  concerned,  may  be  stated,  in 
general  terms,  to  consist  in  certain  shapes,  surfaces,  or  contours, 
proportions  and  colors,  constituting  by  and  of  themselves  posi- 
tive, essential  beauty,  as  a  modification  of  such  shapes  or  forms, 
surfaces  or  contours,  proportions  and  colors,  and  the  consequent 
presence  of  others,  constitutes  essential,  positive  deformity,  —  not 
a  negative  deficiency  simply,  but  an  absolute  presence. 

The  essential,  inherent  quality  of  beauty  then,  as  thus  stated, 
being  accepted,  we  are  next  to  inquire  if  there  may  not  be  some 
standard  to  which  to  refer  it,  some  rule  to  guide  the  judgment 
in  our  estimate  of  the  degrees  of  it,  especially  as  it  regards  the 
human  structure. 

This  question  in  regard  to  a  standard  of  beauty  for  the  human 
form  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  more  general  one  of  a  stand- 
ard of  taste.  We  shall  consider  it,  however,  no  furtlier  than  as  it 
has  a  bearing  on  a  rule  or  law  of  beauty  for  the  human  struc- 
ture, both  male  and  female. 

We  constantly  talk  of  the  beauty  or  deformity  of  this  or  that 
individual,  and  it  is  immediately  assented  to ;  but  when  one 
standard  of  beauty  for  the  human  race  is  mentioned,  objections 
are  raised,  on  the  ground  that  individuals  and  nations  differ  in 
regard  to  their  estimate  of  what  constitutes  beauty,  —  one  mak- 
ing it  to  consist  in  this  structure  and  color,  another  in  that ;  the 
Chinese,  for  instance,  finding  it  in  the  pinched-up  foot,  the  sooty 
African  in  the  thick-formed  lip,  whilst  the  Caucasian,  rejecting 
these  as  deformities,  seeks  and  thinks  he  finds  it  in  something  else. 

This  is  the  argument  generally  employed  by  those  who  con- 
tend for  the  negative  of  this  question  ;  but  it  is  of  no  avail, 
for  although  a  love  for  the  beautiful  is  a  part  of  our  common 
nature,  this  love  may  be  improved  like  any  other  of  our  faculties, 
physical,  intellectual,  and  moral.  Indeed,  taste,  or  a  love  for  and 
discriminating  appreciation  of  whatever  is  beautiful,  is  not  only 


8  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

progressive,  but  inductive  ;  it  is,  in  short,  as  has  been  well  said, 
"the  result  of  a  series  of  experiments  whose  object  is  beauty"  ; 
and  this  being  so,  our  discernment  and  judgment  of  beauty  will 
be  commensurate  with  our  means  of  improvement.  The  unedu- 
cated rustic  who  has  never  travelled  beyond  his  little  village, 
and  seen  only  such  rude  objects  of  art  as  the  pedler  unfolds  at 
the  cottage  door,  is  gratified  and  satisfied  with  less  than  his  more 
fortunate  townsman,  who  has  seen  the  master  efforts  of  the 
pencil  and  the  chisel.  The  former  is  pleased,  for  they  are  the 
best  he  has  seen  ;  but  even  he  will  smile  at  the  primitive  sim- 
plicity of  his  early  taste,  when,  at  some  future  period,  with  the 
advantages  of  travel  and  observation,  his  eye  ranges  along  the 
adornments  of  the  walls  of  his  ancient  habitation ;  he  judges  com- 
paratively, he  has  seen  a  better. 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  diversity  of  opinion,  in  regard  to 
beauty,  so  far  from  being  a  matter  for  surprise,  is  the  necessar}^ 
effect  of  varied  extent  of  knowledge,  and  can  never  be  success- 
fully employed  as  an  argument  against  a  standard  of  beauty  for 
the  human  race  ;  and  this  being  so,  our  next  and  third  j^rdimi- 
nary  inquiry  is  as  to  where  we  shall  find  that  standard,  and, 
happily  for  our  patience,  there  is  no  difficulty  in  this  respect,  as 
we  have  only  to  turn  to  those  universally  admired  relics  of 
(Grecian  grandeur,  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  Venus  de  Medici, 
not  as  arbitrary  standards,  but  as  standards  whose  claim  to  be 
regarded  as  models  of  beauty  rests  upon  the  common  feelings 
and  sentiments  of  men,  tried  and  appealed  to  for  centuries 
through  all  civilized  nations.  Reason,  however,  it  has  been 
justly  remarked  by  Mr.  Blair,  first  established,  and,  as  we  shall 
presently  show,  subsequently  demonstrates,  the  principles  on 
which  the  standard  furnished  by  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus 
remains  fixed  and  unchangeable. 

It  may  be  objected  to  these  statues  that  they  are  ideal  figures, 
and  therefore  that  it  is  perfectly  ridiculous  to  set  them  up  as 
models  of  beauty  for  the  human  form ;  but  the  reply  to  this  is, 
that  although  nothing  like  them  as  a  whole  has  been  found  in 
the  great  human  family  since  our  first  parents,  yet  they  are  not, 
for  that  reason,  the  less  natural. 


PERSONAL  BEAUTY.  9 

There  may  be  a  seeming  contradiction  in  the  statement  that 
ideal  beauty  in  its  highest  type  and  signification  is  natural 
beauty ;  but  as  an  examination  of  this  position  will  unfold  to  us 
the  entire  meaning  and  design  of  the  old  Greek  sculpture,  and 
consequently  the  nature  and  conditions  of  living  human  beauty, 
let  us  briefly  pursue  it,  and  test  its  accuracy. 

No  one,  we  apprehend,  will  dispute  the  position  that  the 
present  structm-e  of  the  human  race  is  imperfect,  that  no  one 
can  be  found  whose  physical  conformation  is  not  marked  by  one 
or  more  defects ;  nor  will  it  be  doubted  by  any  one,  we  imagine, 
that  there  must  have  been  a  brief  period  in  man's  history  when 
it  was  fai'  otherwise,  —  for  it  is  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  im- 
perfection existed  in  the  physical  constitution  of  the  first  created 
pair,  whatever  may  have  been  the  inherent  liability  to  change, 
deterioration,  and  disease.  They  were  the  last  of  the  Almighty's 
productions,  and,  as  the  heads  of  creation,  we  have  some  sure 
grounds  for  believing  them  to  have  been  that  on  which  his 
greatest  skill  was  expended.  The  great  Architect  of  the  universe 
doubtless  made  the  body  a  fitting  residence  for  its  princely  occu- 
pant, the  soul.  Man  must  have  commenced  aright,  for  it  is 
difficult  to  conceive,  in  any  view  of  the  matter,  why  it  should 
have  been  otherwise.  But  perfect  beauty,  as  already  stated,  is 
now  no  longer  to  be  found  in  any  human  being.  This  soul  of 
ours  is  the  tenant  only  of  a  ruin,  but  it  is  the  ruin  of  a  Par- 
thenon ;  and,  although  its  fail'  proportions  are  destroyed,  the 
material  still  exists,  but  scattered  like  the  fragments  of  that  same 
Parthenon,  and,  like  them  too,  beautiful  even  in  decay.  To 
repeat,  the  fragments  of  that  beauty,  once  united  in  the  first 
creation,  although  dispersed,  now  exist.  On  every  side  of  us 
there  is  more  or  less  of  them.  This  person  may  have  one  por- 
tion, and  that  another,  but  not  the  whole  ;  for,  to  repeat,  no  one 
can  be  found  in  whom  these  fragments  of  original  beauty  are  not 
mixed  up  with  deficiencies,  excrescences,  and  deformities,  —  the 
necessaiy  consequences  of  a  diseased  body.  This  may  be  morti- 
fying to  our  pride,  especially  when  we  compare  our  condition 
in  this  respect  with  that  of  other  animals,  but  it  is  no  less  a 
fact. 


10  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

Now,  this  imperfection  in  man's  structure  soon  made  itself 
/"  visible  to  the  Grecian  sculptors.  These,  observing  that  Nature 
had  limited  her  efforts  to  parts,  —  that  is,  had  scattered  among 
the  many  the  beauties  formerly  united  in  one,  —  were  not  willing 
to  take  their  idea  of  beauty  from  a  single  individual,  but  from 
several ;  and  thus,  instead  of  making  a  fac-simile  of  one,  they  ex- 
tracted the  fragments  of  beauty  from  many  bodies,  and,  uniting 
them  into  a  congenial  mass,  were  enabled  to  make  out  an  ab- 
stract of  form  more  perfect  than  one  original,  and  —  which  might 
seem  a  paradox  —  more  natural,  as  the  result  of  such  combination 
was  the  production  of  forms  not  disfigured  by  accident,  distem- 
pered by  disease,  or  modified  by  custom  and  local  habits,  and 
consequently  possessing  more  of  that  unmodified  general  struc- 
ture that  characterized  the  first  creation.  I  repeat,  general  struc- 
ture ;  for  the  phrase  ^^ 2:>erfect  beauty  "  implies  or  expresses  a  gen- 
eral idea,  neither  Greek,  Italian,  English,  French,  nor  German 
exclusively,  —  for  all  national  and  individual  peculiarities  of 
structure,  as  such,  are  a  deviation  from  or  modification  of  the  origi- 
nal type  of  general  beauty,  and  consequently  so  far  a  deformity. 

When  we  spoke  just  now  of  man's  early  offence  against  the 
.  laws  of  nature,  and  of  the  diseases  and  deformities  consequent 
upon  his  o?;er-indulgence  of  the  passions  and  appetites,  as  among 
the  prominent  causes  of  his  present  deteriorated  structure,  and 
that  it  found  its  complete  restoration  in  the  efforts  of  the  Greek 
sculptors,  we  did  not  mean  it  to  be  inferred  that  they  under- 
stood all  this  in  the  sense  in  wdiich  we  comprehend  it,  but  that 
the  process  of  selection  and  congenial  combination  led  to  this 
result.  Whatever  may  have  been  their  supposition  and  inten- 
tion, and  whether  they  have  or  have  not,  in  these  or  any  other 
figures,  reached  the  excellence  and  beauty  of  the  first  created 
pair,  it  will  at  once  be  seen,  that,  although  our  models  may 
be  imperfect,  our  theory  remains  sound,  namely,  that  complete 
ideal  personal  beauty,  and  consequently  a  standard  of  form,  is 
nothing  more  than  the  reproducing  in  marble  or  some  unchan- 
ging measurable  material  the  structure  given  to  man  at  creation, 
not  in  attempting  to  make  anything  more  beautiful  than  he  then 
was,  but  as  he  once  existed,  fresh  from  the  hands  of  his  Maker ; 


PERSONAL  BEAUTY.  11 

thus  making  the  highest  ideal  and  the  liighcst  natural  beauty  to 
be  precisely  the  same  thing,  and  man,  as  we  ordinarily  behold 
him,  the  most  unnatural  of  all  created  beings,  and  that  "  not  to 
overstep  the  modesty  of  nature  is  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
the  most  exalted  art." 

There  is  one  other  objection  besides  that  already  noticed  which 
is  very  likely  to  be  lu'ged  against  the  claims  of  the  Apollo  and 
the  Venus  to  be  regarded  as  the  standards  of  human  form, 
namely,  that  they  were  reckoned  among  the  gods  of  Greece. 
Those  who  advance  it,  however,  forget  that  the  divinities  of  that 
people  had  a  human  origin,  and  that  whoever  attempted  to 
portray  them  employed  human  materials. 

The  aim  of  the  sculptors  in  these  statues  was  complete 
beauty  of  form,  but  of  this  they  could  have  no  higher  concep- 
tion than  what  was  furnished  by  the  scattered  parts,  among 
which  their  acuteness  discerning  a  consistency,  guided  by  their 
taste  and  artistic  skill,  these  they  simply  united  into  congenial 
forms,  "  bone  to  its  fellow  bone,"  as  the  dry  and  scattered  frag- 
ments came  together  in  the  vision  of  Ezekiel ;  governed  in  all 
this  by  precisely  the  same  law  that,  as  stated  in  the  commence- 
ment of  this  essay,  governed  Cuvier  in  the  perfect  reconstruc- 
tion of  the  form  of  some  lost  animal,  —  the  law  of  congruity,  or 
agreement. 

Besides  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  the  Venus  de  Medici,  there 
are  other  ideal  forms  among  the  Greek  sculptures  that  in  a  certain 
sense  are  beautiful,  as  the  Hunting  Diana,  the  Minerva  Athene, 
the  Mercury,  the  Venus  of  Milo,  etc. ;  but  they  have  no  claim  to 
be  regarded  as  models  or  standards  of  complete  human  beauty, 
as  their  excellence  is  partial,  sectional,  characteristic,  being  that 
only  of  a  class,  —  the  Diana  and  Mercury  embodying  the  perfec- 
tions of  the  fleet  or  agile,  the  Minerva  those  of  the  intellectual. 
These  are  extremes  of  their  kind,  and  are  styled  characteristic 
beauties  ;  in  which  they  differ  from  the  Apollo  and  Venus,  that, 
as  already  stated,  have  in  their  structure  nothing  of  a  partial 
character,  but  are  central  figures,  the  medium  or  compromise 
between  all  extremes,  and,  being  gathered  from  the  entire  human 
family,    are    models  of    general  beauty,  as    the    others,   being 


12  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

gathered  from  a  subdivision  of  it,  are  perfect  examples  of  ^jar- 
ticular  beauty,  the  beauty  of  a  class. 

In  his  admirable  lectures  on  art.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  to 
whom  we  are  already  much  indebted,  tells  us  that  "  the  Apollo 
and  the  Venus  are  a  combination  of  these  several  sectional  beau- 
ties, a  union  of  all  the  excellent  qualities  that  these  singly  possess, 
just  as  Achilles,  whom  Homer  intends  to  make  a  perfect  man, 
is  a  compound  of  all  his  confederates ; "  or  as  John  Milton,  who, 
Macaulay  tells  us,  was  the  greatest  man  of  his  age,  "  was  neither 
Puritan,  Cavalier,  Roundhead,  nor  of  any  other  single  party 
or  persuasion,  but  made  up  of  the  noblest  qualities  of  every 
party  combined  in  harmonious  union,  —  from  the  camp  and  the 
court,  from  the  conventicle  and  the  Gothic  cloister,  from  the 
gloomy  and  sepulchral  circles  of  the  Roundhead  and  the  Christ- 
mas revels  of  the  hospitable  Cavaliers,  — his  nature  selecting  and 
drawing  to  itself  whatever  was  great  and  good,  while  it  rejected 
all  the  base  and  pernicious  ingredients  by  which  those  finer  ele- 
ments were  defiled." 

And  that  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus  are,  as  Reynolds  observes, 
a  combination  of  all  the  excellent  qualities  that  the  other  stat- 
ues singly  possess,  we  can  readily  believe,  as  "perfect  beauty 
in  any  species  must  unite  all  the  characters  that  are  beautiful 
in  that  species.  It  cannot  exist  in  one  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
rest ;  no  one,  either,  must  be  predominant,  that  no  one  may  be 
deficient ; "  for  wherever,  as  already  shown,  one  quality  —  as  of 
activity  in  the  Mercury  and  Diana,  and  intellectuality  in  the 
Minerva  —  becomes  so  predominant  as  to  merge  or  shut  out  the 
rest,  it  renders  such  representation  sectional,  destroys  its  gen- 
eral character,  the  great  element  of  perfect  beauty. 

This  idea  of  Reynolds  has  been  taken  up  and  much  simplified 
by  Walker  in  his  very  elaborate  work  on  Beauty.  He  makes 
three  classes  of  sectional  beauty,  represented  by  the  Venus 
of  Milo,  the  Hunting  Diana,  and  the  Minerva  Athene.  The 
beauty  of  the  first  he  characterizes  as  vital,  "■  because  it  embodies 
all  those  qualities  which  best  fit  a  woman  to  become  the  mother 
of  her  race  ;"  that  of  the  second  as  locomotive,  "because  it  em- 
bodies all  those  qualities  which  favor  activity  of  movement ; " 


PERSONAL   BEAUTY.  13 

and  that  of  the  third  as  intellechial,   "  because  developing  par- 
ticidarly  the  intellectual  excellences  of  form  and  expression." 

"  Now,"  continues  Mr.  Walker,  "though  there  can  be  no  great 
degi-ee  of  beauty  where  a  combination  of  the  three  is  not  more 
or  less  the  case,  yet  a  union  of  the  three  in  the  greatest  possi- 
ble degree  is  necessary  to  constitute  ^x^z/w^  2)erso)ial  beauty  "  ;  and 
this  (as  does  Reynolds)  he  thinks  exemplified  in  the  Apollo 
Belvedere  and  the  Venus  de  Medici,  which,  as  already  stated,  have 
in  them  nothing  that  is  characteristic,  individual,  or  national. 

It  is  true  we  daily  hear  these  statues  spoken  of  as  Greek  in 
their  structure,  but  it  is  only  in  the  sense  in  which  Mr.  Hume 
allows  to  the  British  people  a  national  character,  namely,  in 
their  having  none,  this  very  peculiarity  alone  entitling  them  to 
the  epithet ;  that  is,  "the  British  character  was,"  as  he  expresses 
it,  "a  union  of  all  the  excellent  qualities  possessed  separately  by 
different  portions  of  the  great  human  family,"  which  combination 
rendered  them,  in  his  opinion,  the  most  perfect  peoj^le,  morally 
considered,  on  the  globe.  Whether  his  estimate  was  just  or 
not  is  another  question.  The  idea  is  that  of  Macaulay  in  his  >^ 
anah-tical  estimation  of  the  character  of  John  Milton,  and 
equally  illustrates  the  only  manner  possible  of  embodying  su- 
preme excellence,  namely,  by  a  combination  of  scattered  ele- 
ments into  one  congenial  whole. 

These  statues,  therefore,  are  Greek  in  one  sense,  and  not  in 
another,  —  Greek,  in  that  the  qualities  of  general  beauty  were 
oftener  found  in  Greece  than  elsewhere  ;  and  not  Greek,  in  that 
the  qualities  which  gave  such  pre-eminent  beauty  to  the  Apollo 
and  the  Venus  belong  to  man  not  as  a  Greek,  but  are  the  gen- 
eral characteristics  of  man  universal. 

Our  discussion  thus  far  has  established,  as  we  believe,  thev 
following  positions  :  First,  that  beauty  has  a  real,  not  an  im- 
aginary existence  ;  that  it  is  an  inherent,  essential  quality  of 
objects,  —  something  residing  in  them,  independent  of  all  other 
considerations,  whether  of  association  or  utility  or  fitness  or 
design  ;  for  although  such  association,  or  the  perception  of  utility 
or  fitness  or  design,  may  increase  our  admiration,  they  make  no 
part  of  that  to  which  we  apply  the  epithet  "  beautiful." 


14  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

Second,  that  there  may  be  a  standard  of  beauty,  notwith- 
standing a  difference  of  opinion  respecting  it  exists  among 
individuals  and  nations,  inasmuch  as  taste,  or  a  just  apprecia- 
tion and  estimate  of  beauty,  is  improvable,  like  any  other  of  our 
faculties,  intellectual,  physical,  and  moral. 

Third,  that  this  standard  of  beauty  is  furnished  us  in  those 
ancient  Greek  statues,  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  the  Venus 
de  Medici,  because  they  combine  all  the  physical  beauties  of 
the  first  ci-eated  of  the  human  race,  which  primitive  creation  we 
assumed  to  be  necessarily  perfect,  and  consequently  that  what- 
ever claims  to  be  a  law  or  model  for  living  beauty  must  in  all 
particulars  resemble  them,  thus  identifying  the  highest  idecd 
with  the  highest  natural  beauty. 

Fourth,  that  the  term  "  perfect  beauty  "  expresses  a  general 
idea,  excluding  all  individual  and  national  peculiarities  of  struc- 
ture as  modifications  of  this  general  primitive  beauty,  which 
comprehends,  necessarily,  all  that  is  excellent  in  the  species, 
and  cannot  exist  in  one  excellent  quality  to  the  exclusion  of  the 
rest,  as,  whenever  that  is  the  case,  —  as  in  the  Diana,  where  the 
locomotive  power  or  adaptation  exceeds  all  other  developments,  and 
in  the  Minerva,  where  the  intellectucd  are  the  most  predominant, 
and  ni  the  Venus  of  Milo,  where  both  the  locomotive  and  the  in- 
tellectucd are  subordinate  to  the  vital  developments,  —  it  destroys 
its  general  character,  and  renders  it  a  sectional,  partial  beauty, 
the  perfection  of  its  class,  as  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus  de 
Medici,  combining  the  beauties  or  excellent  qualities  of  these 
three  classes  in  equal  and  highest  degree,  are  types  of  perfect 
general  beauty,  that  is,  of  man  universal. 

''  Well,  having  established,  as  we  trust,  these  preliminary  posi- 
tions, we  come  next  to  speak  of  the  elements  of  beauty,  j^i^opor- 
tion,  symmetry,  simplicity,  variety,  and  grace,  —  of  symmetry  in 
the  disposition  of  the  several  limbs  and  features ;  proportion 
^in  their  several  lengths  and  breadths  ;  simplicity  and  variety 
in  their  contours  or  surfaces  ;  and  grace  in  their  attitudes. 


PERSONAL  BEAUTY.  15 


PROPORTION. 


Proportion  has  ever  been  considered  the  basis  of  beauty,  as 
disproportion  of  deformity.  It  is  defined  to  be  the  rehition  of 
the  whole  to  the  parts,  or  of  the  parts  to  the  whole.  In  foi-m 
it  is  such  an  arrangement  of  the  several  portions  of  a  figure  as 
sliall  make  that  impression  upon  the  eye  that  a  just  arrangement 
of  notes  in  music  does  upon  the  ear.  Proportion  pleases  by^ 
its  appeal  to  our  love  of  harmony,  and  harmony  pleases  us 
agreeably  to  a  requirement  or  law  of  om*  natiure. 

In  this  view  of  the  term  —  nameh^,  the  relation  of  the  whole  to 
the  parts  and  of  the  parts  to  the  w^hole  —  it  will  be  perceived 
that  there  may  be  proportion  in  several  kinds  of  figures,  either  fat 
or  slender,  tall  or  short,  as  the  several  parts  which  go  to  make 
up  that  figure  are /a^  or  slender,  tall  or  short  ;  so  that  when  it  is/ 
said,  as  it  presently  will  be,  that  neither  of  these  can  be  per- 
fectly beautiful,  but  only  a  medium  or  compromise  of  the  two, 
the  idea  intended  to  be  conveyed  is  not  that  they  are  entirely 
deficient  in  personal  attractions,  because  they  may  possess  the 
charm  that  arises  from  congeniality  or  congruity  of  parts  from 
their  all  being  of  one  character,  —  in  which  consists,  doubtless, 
much  of  the  beauty  of  the  Diana,  the  Mercury,  the  greyhound, 
the  dray  and  the  race  horse,  the  clipper-built  schooner  and  the  ship 
of  burden.  In  each  of  these,  if  we  may  be  allowed  the  exj)res- 
sion,  the  parts  are  all  of  one  mind ;  the  notes  are  in  unison,  but 
the  air  is  not  the  most  beautiful.  This  proportion  of  an  indi- 
vidual in  regard  to  himself,  this  correspondence  of  the  several 
parts  of  an  object  w^ith  the  entire  figure,  is  what  the  ancient 
Greeks  called  harmonic  proportion. 

Bad  proportion  of  the  human  figure  consists  in  having  a 
fat  body  and  a  slim  leg,  or  a  thin  face  and  a  pug  nose,  or  fat 
fingers  and  a  lean  arm  ;  or  it  is  such  an  aiTangemcnt  of  the 
several  parts  as  shall  produce  the  same  effect  upon  the  eye  that 
a  too  sharp  or  too  flat  note  in  music  does  upon  the  ear. 

If  any  one  should  desire  to  know  what  the  most  perfect  pro- 
portions for  the  human  figure  are,  that  is  another  question,  and 
best  answered  by  referring  to  the  Venus  and  the  Apollo. 


16  PEES ox AL   BEAUTY. 

Among  the  ancient  sculptors,  the  medium  of  measurement 
for  the  human  form  was  either  the  foot,  the  face,  or  the  head. 
Taking  the  face  for  the  measui'ement,  the  Apollo  and  Venus 
give  for  their  height  about  ten  ;  or,  making  the  head  the  measure- 
ment, the  Apollo  gives  somewhat  over  seven,  the  Venus  seven 
and  a  half.  This  laying  out  of  the  figiu'e  into  so  many  faces  or 
heads  or  feet  was  called  by  the  ancients  numerical  proportion. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  continue  further  detailed  statements 
like  these,  as  they  may  be  found  in  almost  any  book  on  Ai-t. 

/We  shall  content  ourselves  with  simply  remarking  that  the 
length  of  the  several  portions  of  the  figure  in  the  two  sexes  is 
pretty  much  the  same,  but  that  in  their  breadths  they  differ ; 
the  shoulders  in  the  male  being  in  all  well-proportioned  figures 
broader  than  the  hips,  and  the  reverse  in  the  female ;  hence  the 
form  of  the  first  tapers  downwards,  while  that  of  the  latter  tapers 
upwards.  The  waist  too,  as  compared  with  the  shoulders,  is 
nari'ower  in  the  male  than  in  the  female,  from  which  it  appears 
how  contrary  to   Nature's  design   those  females  proceed  who 

^  think  they  improve  their  beauty  by  contracting  it. 


SYMMETRY. 

We  have  had  no  inconsiderable  difficulty  in  giving  a  satisfac- 
tory definition  of  this  second  element  of  beauty,  as  it  is  fre- 
quently employed  by  writers  as  synonymous  with  proportion.  It 
has  probably  the  same  meaning  as  uniformity  ;  at  least,  we  shall 
so  consider  it. 

It  is  symmetry  that  directs  the  placing  of  the  arms  in  corre- 
sponding positions  on  either  side  of  the  body,  the  ears  on  either 
side  of  the  head,  the  eyes  on  either  side  and  at  equal  distance 
from  the  nose,  —  as  the  windows,  the  eyes  of  the  house,  on  either 
side  of  the  door ;  the  chimneys,  the  ears  of  the  house,  on  each 
end,  or  in  the  middle,  if  but  one.  The  destruction  of  one  eye, 
or  the  loss  of  or  cutting  shorter  one  of  the  arms,  or  elevating 
a  little  one  of  the  shoulders,  would  be  destructive  of  symmetry. 
The  destruction  of  the  two  eyes  or  both  arms  would  not  so  im- 
pair it,  although  it  would  be  fatal  to  ^iro/?or^io«.     The  ox  with 


PERSONAL   BEAUTY.  17 

two  horns,  and  the  unicorn  with  one,  are  equally  symmetrical ; 
cut  but  an  inch  from  one  of  the  horns  of  the  former,  or  remove 
but  an  inch  from  the  centre  the  horn  of  the  latter,  and  the 
symmetry  of  the  figure  is  destroyed.  Symmetry  always  imparts 
a  very  great  delight ;  it  pleases  by  its  appeal  to  our  love  of  or- 
der, or  balance  of  parts.  ►^ 

SIMPLICITY. 

This,  the  third  element  of  beauty,  is  the  basis  of  purity, 
and  always  involves  the  idea  of  fewness  of  parts.  It  is  sim- 
plicity that  makes  us  admire  the  clear  unwrinkled  forehead, 
a  smooth  fair  skin  ;  that  discards  in  dress  a  multiplicity  of  folds 
and  gTeat  variety  of  colors,  as,  in  the  hair,  a  multiplicity  of 
curls ;  that  renders  agTeeable  the  Eastern  drapery,  and  gives 
superiority  to  Grecian  over  Gothic  architecture,  when  the  latter 
is  viewed  near,  and  that  makes  the  Gothic  look  better  at  a  dis- y 
tance,  when  the  detail  is  lost  in  the  mass. 

In  this  element  of  beauty  is  to  be  found  the  gi-eat  charm  of 
Raphael's  productions,  and  in  the  want  of  it  the  disgust  and 
uneasiness  not  unfrequently  excited  by  those  of  French  artists 
of  the  David  school,  in  the  days  of  the  Empire. 

Simplicity  in  morals  means  straightforwardness,  directness, 
and  is  the  opposite  of  cunning,  chicanery,  and  intrigue.  In 
manners  it  is  artlessness,  and  the  opposite  of  affectation  ;  in 
form,  it  is  the  opposite  of  a  multiplicity  of  shapes  or  figures. 
Simplicity  is  a  near  neighbor  to  order  or  regularity,  and  conse- 
quently leads  a  very  quiet  existence.  It  pleases  by  its-appeal  to 
our  love  of  repose. 

VARIETY. 

It  may  look  a  little  like  contradiction  to  place  variety  among 
the  elements  of  beauty,  after  what  has  been  said  of  simplicity. 
But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  although  the  eye  and  the  mind, 
like  the  body,  love  quid,  and  repose,  they  likewise  love  exercise. 
The  eye  is  as  much  offended  with  being  fixed  to  a  dead  flat 
wall  as  the  ear  is  displeased  with  one  even  continued  note. 

It  is  varietv  that  renders  the  rectangular  line  more  beautiful 


18  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

.and  agreeable  to  the  eye  than  one  uniformly  straight,  those 
cutting  each  other  diagonally  more  so  than  the  rectangular,  the 
undulating  more  so  than  the  diagonal,  and  the  spiral  more  so 
than  the  undulating  or  double  ciirve,  —  the  latter  constituting 
the  line  of  beauty,  the  former  that  of  grace. 

It  is  variety  that  gives  a  pleasing  character  to  the  perpen- 
dicular position  of  the  nose  as  contrasted  vrith  the  horizontal 
lines  of  the  eyes  and  the  mouth ;  that  makes  the  oval  a  better 
form  for  the  head  than  the  round  or  the  square,  a  slightly  un- 
dulating outline  of  the  surface  of  the  body  preferable  to  a  dead 
flat ;  that  renders  a  turning  attitude  and  limbs,  a  slightly 
averted  and  gently  reclined  head,  infinitely  more  beautiful  than 
one  bolt  upright. 

"  This  variety,  however,  in  the  form,  the  surface,  and  the  atti- 
tude of  the  body  must  not  be  carried  to  excess,  any  more  than 
simjilicitij,  for  the  first  would  lead  to  intricacy,  as  the  last  to 
monotony r  What  the  proportionate  degree  of  each  in  any  form 
or  composition  should  be,  is  a  question  to  be  answered  when 
we  come  to  speak  of  the  constituent  portions  of  painting  and 
directly  of  sculpture,  and  to  treat  of  the  con-espondence  neces- 
sary to  be  preserved  between  the  composition  and  the  senti- 
ment of  the  subject. 

That  the  foregoing  remarks  in  regard  to  dmplicity  and  variety 
are  not  the  mere  suggestions  of  fancy,  but  have  a  practical  ap- 
plication, and  involve  the  soundest  philosophy,  may  be  easily 
demonstrated  by  almost  anything  that  is  beautiful  in  nature 
and  art,  and  particularly  by  that  most  enchanting  of  all  objects, 
the  human  form. 

Observe  the  head,  and  see  how  beautifully  Nature  has  guarded 
it  from  monotony  by  the  hair  and  the  ej'ebrows,  which  by  their 
roughness  serve  to  relieve  the  softness,  smoothness,  and  clear- 
ness of  the  skin  ;  and  then  again  the  outlines  of  the  entire 
figure,  which,  though  in  its  general  surface  soft  and  smooth, 
consists  not  wholly  of  abrupt  angular  lines  nor  of  those  which 
are  perfectly  round,  neither  entirely  of  straight  lines  nor  those 
that  are  curved,  but  of  that  happy  combination  of  the  two,  the 
varied  and  the  simple,  that,  insensibly  melting  into  each  other, 


PERSONAL   BEAUTY.  19 

"  Tliat  flowing  outlino  take 
That  moves  in  wavy  windings  like  the  snake, 
Or  lambent  flame,  which,  ainj)le,  broad,  and  long, 
Relieved,  not  swelled,  at  once  both  light  and  strong, 
Glides  through  the  graceful  whole." 

There  is  not  an  entirely  straight  hne  of  any  extension  to  be  \ 
found  on  the  surface  of  the  figure  of  either  the  Apollo  or  the 
Venus  ;  and  hence  we  conclude  that  much  of  th(;i}-  beauty,  as 
also  that  of  all  handsome  persons,  results  from  the  employment 
and  nice  adjustment  of  a  spirally  undulating  outline.  And  wo 
are  the  more  inclined  to  this  belief,  if  it  be  true,  as  ^Nlr.  Burke 
asserts,  that  "those  objects  are  the  most  ugly  that  are  the  most 
angular  "  :  and  that  this  is  so  as  it  regards  the  human  form  we/ 
are  persuaded  to  believe,  "for  if  its  whole  surface  was  covered 
with  sharp  projecting  points,  the  eye  and  the  mind  would  be 
harassed  and  distracted ;  if  the  whole  surfoce  was  smooth  and 
flat,  there  would  be  a  want  of  animation.  Neither  the  eye 
nor  the  mind  is  unexcited  or  distracted,  but  gently  and  agreeably 
animated,  when  running  along  the  undulatory  surfaces  of  the 
Apollo  and  the  Venus  ;  therefore  we  conclude  that  this  line  is 
one  of  the  principal  causes  of  their  beauty." 

If  this  be,  as  it  doubtless  is,  connect,  it  will  be  at  once  per-  * 
cdved  that  thin  or  lean  persons  cannot  be  perfectly  beautiful, 
because  there  the  muscles  have  no  rilievo,  the  surfaces  are  too 
flat ;  that  would  give  the  half-starved  apothecaiy  in  "  Romeo 
and  Juliet." 

Xor  can  fat  persons  be  perfectly  beautiful,  because  there  the 
muscles  are  too  round  ;  that  would  give  John  Falstaff. 

Xor  very  muscular  persons,  because  there  the  terminations 
or  insertions  of  the  muscles  are  too  abrupt ;  that  would  give 
the  Hercules  or  Samson. 

Nor  can  very  young  persons  be  perfectly  beautiful,  because 
there  the  muscles  have  not  attained  their  completeness ;  nor 
can  very  old  persons,  because  they  have  lost  it. 

Where  then,  and  under  what  condition  of  life,  shall  we  look 
for  complete  human  beauty '?  Only  at  the  precise  period  of 
womanhood  or  manhood.  All  before  that  is  progressive  ;  all  after 
that  is  stationaiy  for  a  while,  perhaps,  and  then  receding.  / 


20  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

If  time  and  space  permitted,  we  could  still  further  illustrate 
the  value  of  this  waving  and  spiral  line  in  giving  beauty,  by 
showing  how  Nature  employs  it  in  ''her  trees,  her  fruits,  her 
flowers,  and,  more  than  all  —  for  its  importance  as  an  argument 
—  in  expressing  the  agreeable  sentiments  of  our  nature,  whilst 
she  exhibits  the  ferocious  and  disgusting  in  angular  lines." 

Violent  passion  angularizes  the  muscles,  and  consequently  is 
fatal  to  beauty.  The  ancients,  therefore,  rarely  exhibited  the 
human  form  violently  excited.  It  is  true  the  "  Gladiator  is 
agitated,  the  Laocoon  is  convulsed,  the  Niobe  is  absorbed ; " 
but  these  are  rare  exceptions,  and  it  was  not  intended  that  to 
them  the  world  should  look  for  complete  human  beauty.  "  The 
Apollo  is  only  animated,  the  Venus  simply  is  charmed." 

"  The  muscles  that  form  a  pleasing  smile  about  the  corners  of 
the  mouth  have  gentle  windings,  but  lose  them  and  their 
beauty  in  a  broad  laugh  ;  they  then  take  the  form  of  a  paren- 
thesis. It  is  the  absence  of  all  these  gently  winding  lines, 
this  union  of  the  varied  and  the  simple,  the  straight  and  the 
curved,  that  characterizes  the  face  of  the  idiot,  and  marks,  in 
the  most  striking  degree,  those  least  beautiful  of  all  animals,  the 
hog,  the  bear,  and  that  reptile,  the  toad."  "  An  ugly  toad  "  is 
a  common  epithet ;  used  sometimes  to  indicate  a  peculiar  disposi- 
tion, but  improperly  so,  as  it  has  relation  simply  to  the  form  or 
structure  of  the  person. 

Although  both  the  Apollo  and  the  Venus  are  characterized 
by  a  nice  adjustment  of  this  serpentine  flowing  outline,  yet  it 
is  somewhat  more  gentle  in  the  female,  as  suitable  to  her  gentler 
nature  and  sex ;  while  in  the  male  the  muscles  are  more  articu- 
lated and  angular,  as  becoming  strength  and  manhood.  This 
being  the  case,  there  can  be  no  difficulty  in  saying  which  is  the 
most  beautiful.  The  female,  undoubtedly.  The  form  of  the 
male,  however,  if  it  exhibit,  as  it  ought,  less  delicacy  and  ele- 
gance, possesses  the  most  grandeur.  Hence  woman,  as  observed 
by  Lavatcr,  "  inspires  more  love  ;  man,  more  admiration." 

Our  discussion  thus  fxr  has  had  relation  only  to  the  form  of 
the  human  creation.  We  have  yet  said  nothing  of  the  general 
complexion,  nor  should  we,  if  this  essay  was  intended  simply  to 


PERSONAL   BEAUTY.  iM 

illustrate  the  beauty  of  the  Greek  statues.  We  have  employed 
them  chiefly  that  through  the  principles  which  govei-ned  their 
construction  we  might  get  a  clearer  idea  than  we  otherwise 
coiild  of  what  constitutes  perfect  beauty  in  the  living  world 
around  us.  We  purpose,  however,  only  briefly  to  remark,  that, 
as  in  a  painting,  when  you  pass  beyond  a  single  color,  a  com- 
bination in  some  way  or  other  of  the  three  primitives,  red, 
yellow,  and  blue,  is  absolutely  required  to  render  a  picture 
agreeable,  the  employment  of  two  alone  not  satisfying  the  eye  : 
so  also  in  every  beautiful  complexion  is  there  required  the  same 
combination.  What  shall  be  the  proportionate  degree  of  each 
in  any  given  form  or  character  could  not  possibly  be  stated. 
We  can  only  say  that  the  union  of  the  three  in  greater  or  less 
intensity  is  found  in  the  complexion  of  every  beautiful  j^erson 
in  health. 

Those  who  contend  against  a  universal  standard  of  beauty  for 
the  human  race  would  tell  us,  perhaps,  that  because  the  Mon- 
golian and  the  Ethiopian  prefer  their  own  color,  therefore  the 
complexion  of  the  black  and  the  Indian  is  to  be  considered  as 
beautiful  as  that  of  the  Caucasian  or  white  race.  It  is  not  so, 
however,  as  has  been  ingeniously  demonstrated  in  a  very  few  words 
by  Sir  Uvedale  Price  in  his  admirable  essay  on  the  Picturesque. 

"  Light  and  color,"  says  that  excellent  critic,  "  are  the  only 
natural  pleasures  of  vision,  but  black  is  the  privation  of  both. 
Variety,  gradation,  and  combination  of  tints  afford  the  gi'eatest 
delight  to  the  eye,  but  black  is  absolute  monotony."  In  the 
complexion  of  the  black,  then,  and  in  almost  as  great  a  degree 
in  the  complexion  of  the  red  man,  we  see  an  inferiority,  in  one 
view  of  the  matter,  to  that  of  the  white.  We  call  the  negi'o  "  a 
man  of  color,"  but  improperly  so,  as  that  epithet  may  more, 
properly  be  applied  to  the  white  race. 

The  same  inferiority  likewise  attaches  to  the  form  of  the  black, 
as  judged  by  our  standard,  and  that  we  have  a  right  so  to  judge 
we  doubt  not ;  for  though  the  perfection  of  our  model  —  and,  in- 
deed, of  any  model  —  consists  in  a  complete  conformation  to  the 
primitive  creation,  and  the  negro  and  the  red  man  had,  as  some 
maintain,  a  distinct  origin  (\vhich  point  it  is  not  necessary  for 


22  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

US  now  to  discuss),  and  although  as  a  MongoHan  or  an  Ethi- 
opian, his  perfection  would  consist  in  a  complete  conformation 
to  the  structure  that  characterized  the  first  created  of  his  own 
denomination,  yet,  when  we  come  to  consider  his  beauty  as  a 
man,  as  a  member  of  the  gi'eat  human  family,  then  he  necessarily 
comes  under  the  general  law  ;  and  a  comparison  with  the  white, 
under  that  law,  at  once  establishes  his  inferiority,  both  as  it  re- 
gards/or;/i  and  color,  whatever  may  be  his  intellectual  and  moral 
equality. 

Our  remarks  thus  far  have  been  mostly  of  an  abstract  charac- 
ter, and  had  relation  chiefly  to  the  past.  We  will  now,  in  conclu- 
sion, say  a  few  words  of  the  present. 

Among  the  varieties  of  the  great  human  family  now  on  the 
earth,  none  have  a  greater  reputation  for  beauty  than  the  Cir- 
cassians and  Georgians,  —  or,  rather,  the  portion  of  the  Georgians 
inhabiting  that  part  of  the  great  Caucasian  range  called  Kar- 
teul  or  Imeritia,  for  there  are  several  divisions  of  the  Georgians. 

Why  the  Greeks  should  have  lost  their  general  reputation  for 
beauty  we  know  not,  for  there  are  travellers  who  say  that  the 
same  models  that  inspired  Phidias  and  Apelles  are  still  to  be 
found  in  the  Morea ;  that  nothing  can  surpass  the  beauty  of  the 
Greek  women  that  inhabit  the  islands,  where  the  Greek  blood  is 
unpolluted  by  marriage  with  natives  of  other  countries.  Blu- 
menbach,  of  a  collection  of  one  hundred  and  seventy  crania  of 
different  nations,  found  a  Greek  skull  presenting  the  same  facial 
angle  as  that  of  the  Apollo  (an  angle  of  eighty-seven  degrees), 
thus  refuting  the  idea  that  the  expansive  forms  of  the  best  an- 
tique sculptures  were  purely  imaginative. 

But,  be  that  as  it  may,  the  Greeks  have,  from  some  cause  or 
other,  lost  their  ancient  reputation  for  beauty.  The  palm  is  now 
awarded  by  general  consent  to  the  Circassians  and  the  Georgians. 
Tlie  Circassians  are  described  as  having  brown  hair,  hazel  eyes, 
oval  faces,  thin  straiglit  noses,  and  elegant  forms.  The  Geor- 
gians are  spoken  of  as  more  beautiful  in  form,  but  inferior  in 
complexion.  It  is  less  fair,  owing,  no  doubt,  to  the  latter  being 
natives  of  a  lower  range  of  the  Caucasian  Mountains. 

Among  the  principal  causes  of  the  superior  beauty  of  these 


PERSONAL   BKAUTY.  23 

tribes  may  be  included  the  unfettered  training  of  the  children, 
the  freedom  of  dress,  and  that  exemi^tion  Irom  care  which  at- 
tends a  medium  degree  of  refinement,  and  leaves  the  counte- 
nance with  that  expression  of  repose  so  characteristic  of  ideal 
beaut  I/. 

Where  there  is  a  multiplicity  of  cares,  there  gets  to  be  im- 
pressed upon  the  face  a  multiplicity  of  expressions,  which  de- 
stroys the  breadth,  and  distracts  the  eye  and  mind  of  the  spec- 
tator. 

Much,  too,  is  owing  to  the  medium  nature  of  the  climate. 
They  are  neither  burnt  up,  like  the  negro,  nor  frozen  to  death, 
like  the  Esquimaux.  Nature  degenerates  at  the  extremes.  All 
extremes  lie  on  either  side  of  the  true  and  the  perfect.  Thus  it  ; 
is  neither  the  Hercules  nor  the  Mercury  that  is  the  most  beautiful, 
but  a  medium  or  compromise  of  the  two,  the  Apollo  ;  neither 
the  gTeyhound  nor  the  mastiff,  but  the  pointer  ;  neither  the  lean 
nor  the  fat,  but  the  full  made  ;  neither  the  tall  nor  the  short, 
but  the  medium-sized  ;  neither  the  old  nor  the  young,  but  the 
middle-aged  ;  neither  the  straight  nor  the  round,  but  the  undu- 
lating ;  or,  to  sum  up  the  whole  in  two  words,  it  is  the  juste'^ 
milieu  of  the  French,  or  the  "  golden  mean "  of  the  moralist, 
or  something  precisely  between  two  extremes  ;  and  it  is  there 
we  find  our  standard  of  beauty  for  the  human  race,  not  simply 
the  beauty  of  form,  color,  and  expression,  but  likewise  of  attitude 
and  movement,  or,  in  other  words,  grace,  so  well  defined  as  "  the 
artless  balance  of  motion  and  repose,  sprung  from  character, 
founded  upon  propriety,  w^hich  neither  falls  short  of  nor  over- 
steps the  modesty  of  nature." 

But  although  a  medium  or  temperate  climate  is  favorable  to 
the  production  and  preservation  of  beauty,  there  may  be,  and 
frequenth'  is,  great  beauty  where  the  climate  is  adverse,  because 
its  evil  influences  may  be  counteracted  or  corrected  by  educa- 
tion ;  but  the  difference  of  the  process  is  the  difference  betweeen 
natural  and  artificial  causes.  The  physical  condition  of  a  man 
who  never  has  been  ill  must  necessarily  be  more  perfect  than 
that  of  one  who  has  been  cured  of  a  disease,  or  is  obliged  daily 
to  take  medicine  to  ward  off  sickness. 


24  PERSONAL   BEAUTY. 

Our  own  is  not  a  temperate  climate,  and  yet  we  have  beauty 
here  in  abundance,  and  should  have  more,  did  not  utter  subjec- 
tion to  fashion,  a  corrupt  taste,  and,  above  all,  the  continued 
anxiety  that  arises  from  a  false  position,  prevent  it.  Yet  we 
ever^^where  see  great  personal  beauty,  not  that  which  is  perfect, 
but  still  beauty  ;  and  if  any  are  so  unfortunate  as  not  to  perceive 
it,  may  it  not  be  that,  like  Milton,  *'  they  have  become  blinded 
with  the  excess  of  light  "  *? 

We  here  conclude  what  our  limits  permit  us  to  devote  to 
the  subject  of  personal  beauty,  natural  and  ideal.  As  the  prin- 
ciples of  all  beauty  are  the  same,  our  argument  will  have  a 
general  application,  and  can  be  employed  to  illustrate  any  object 
that  demands  it. 

Without  aiming  to  give  an  exhaustive  view  of  the  principles 
and  philosophy  of  beauty,  we  yet  hope  that  what  has  been  said, 
imperfect  as  it  may  be,  in  view  of  the  vastness  of  the  theme,  will 
be  sufficient  inducement  to  the  lover  of  nature  and  art  further  to 
pursue  the  examination,  always  keeping  in  mind  that  it  is  not 
the  canon  or  the  rule  of  any  art  or  science  that  is  alone  worthy 
of  investigation,  but  the  reasons  for  those  laws  or  canons.  The 
neglect  to  impart  such  knowledge  characterizes  in  a  great  degree 
the  present,  and  must  always  constitute  a  great  deficiency  in  any 
system  of  education. 


^Z/  a 


=>z^ 


z^'/'\.^^i:/l/U6J . 


IBM        -^ 


f!JIIVBRSIT7 


OS* 


iFo: 


ESSAY    II. 

DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

HAVING  in  the  preceding  Essay  endeavored  to  present  an 
intelligible  idea  of  the  general  principles  of  beauty,  and 
of  the  principles  of  general  beauty,  we  are  in  some  degTee  pre- 
pared to  enter  upon  the  consideration  of  an  art  that  is  chiefly 
concerned  in  the  representation  of  it  on  canvas.  But  before  we 
proceed  to  speak  of  the  constituent  parts  of  Painting,  we  will 
describe  the  different  classes  into  which  it  is  divided ;  and  we 
shall  be  the  more  particular  in  our  analysis  of  some  of  the  high- 
est of  these  classes,  because  without  a  clear  understanding  of 
this  part  of  our  subject  it  is  utterly  impossible  for  any  one  to 
have  a  coiTect  idea  of  any  of  the  fine  arts. 

Painting  is  divided  by  the  most  judicious  writers  into  four- 
teen different  classes  :  The  Ejnc.  Dramatic,  Historic,  Allegoric, 
Portraiture,  Landscape,  Battle  Pieces,  Sea  Views,  Grotesque, 
Architecture,  Animals  and  Birds,  Still  Life,  Fruits  and  Flowers. 

Few  persons  recognize  these  distinctions,  Historical  Painting, 
Landscape,  Portraiture,  Battle  Pieces,  Sea  Views,  Animals  and 
Birds,  Fruits  and  Flowers,  embracing,  in  their  limited  view,  the 
entire  range  of  subjects. 

This  classification,  however,  is  neither  complete  nor  discrimi- 
native, as  a  slight  analysis  will  show  that  the  great  productions 
of  Michael  Angclo  are  no  nearer  allied  to  tliose  of  Raphael  than 
the  Paradise  Lost  of  Milton  is  to  the  writings  of  Shakespeare, 
and  that  the  gi-and  designs  of  both  ]SIichael  Angclo  and  Raphael, 
usujdly  classed  as  historic,  diff'er  as  much  from  pure  historic 
delineations  as  ejnc  and  dramatic  writings  do  from  the  narra- 
tions of  Hume  or  Bancroft ;  so,  too,  that  rustic  or  pa.«toral  land- 
scane  diff"ers  as  much  from  that  called  classic  and  heroic,  as  the 


26  DIFFERENT    CLASSES    OF   PAINTING. 

EclogLies  of  Virgil  do  from  the  vEneid  or  the  IHad,  and  delinea- 
tions of  familiar  life  from  many  other  kinds  of  pictorial  rep- 
resentations, as  the  ballad  does  from  every  other  kind  of 
\\Titten  composition.  In  fine,  we  shall  discover,  upon  examina- 
tion, that  the  same  varieties  exist  in  Painting  as  in  letters,  and 
it  will  be  the  business  of  this  essay  to  point  out  those  distinc- 
tions. 

As  several  of  the  classes  are  sufficiently  denoted  by  their 
names,  we  will  begin  our  analysis  with  a  brief  description  of 

GROTESQUE   PAINTING. 

The  definition  given  by  the  books  to  the  word  grotesque  is 
"  something  distorted  of  figure,  wildly  formed,  unnatiu'al." 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  term  is  employed  to  designate 
such  paintings  as  represent  the  nocturnal  meetings  of  witches, 
incantations,  sorceries,  and  the  like. 

Of  this  class  are  Fuseli's  pictures  of  "  The  Weird  Sisters  bub- 
bling up  from  Earth,"  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  "Caldron  scene 
in  Macbeth,"  Weir's  "Santa  Clans  going  down  the  Chimney- 
top,"  Smirk e's  "Meeting  between  Falstaff  and  Mrs.  Page  and 
]\Irs.  Ford  at  Heme's  Oak,"  but,  above  all,  Teniers's  "  Witch 
coming  from  Hell  with  a  lap  full  of  charms,"  —  a  class  which, 
Dryden  tells  us,  finds  its  resemblance  in  farce  in  poetry. 

LANDSCAPE  PAINTING. 

This  is  the  term  used  to  designate  such  paintings  as  are  the 
transcript  of  a  given  spot,  or  a  picturesque  combination  of 
homogeneous  objects,  or  the  scene  of  a  phenomenon. 

The  first  of  these  divisions  embraces  what  are  commonly 
called  Vieivs,  as  the  representation  of  a  gentleman's  country  resi- 
dence, or  of  some  cit}^,  as  New  York,  and  even  of  the  Falls  of 
Niagara. 
/  It  needs  hardly  to  be  remarked  that  this,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  is  the  most  humble  kind  of  landscape  painting, 
little  more  than  topography,  without  the  merit  of  its  mathemat- 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING.  27 

ical  exactness  ;  the  only  redeeminii'  quality  about  it,  to  give  it 
rank,  value,  and  importance,  resulting  sometimes  from  tlic 
poetic  management  of  the  sky,  ett'ective  disposition  of  the  lights 
and  shadow,  and  tone  of  color,  —  ([ualities  that  depend  more  or 
less  upon  the  invention  and  taste  of  the  artist,  and  do  not  neces- 
sarily attach  to  the  subject.  This  class  is  entirely  distinct  from 
the  second  division,  or  Ideal  Landscape. 

Ideal  landscape  is  the  term  employed  to  designate  a  combina- 
tion of  congenial  ol)iects  or  scenery,  selected  and  arranged  to 
suit  the  taste  and  foncy  of  the  artist.  Nicholas  Poussin's  land- 
scapes are  generally  of  this  class,  as  also  Claude's  ;  and  in  more/ 
modern  times  most  of  those  by  Allston,  and  some  by  Bierstadt, 
Church,  and  others  of  our  American  artists.  The  landscape 
paintings  by  Turner,  the  great  English  artist,  were  more  fre- 
quently the  representations  of  some  given  spot,  the  idealism 
about  them  resulting  in  the  manner  just  described,  namely,  from 
the  poetic  management  of  the  light  and  shadow,  tone  and  color. 
The  four  well-known  designs  by  Claude,  representing  the  four 
parts  of  the  day,  "  Morning,"  "  Noon,"  "  Evening,"  and  "  Night," 
are  fine  specimens  of  ideal  or  composed  landscapes. 

Claude,  like  many  or  most  other  artists,  ancient  and  modern,  ^ 
was  accustomed  in  his  rambles  to  transcribe  into  his  sketch- 
book every  picturesque  object  he  met  with,  —  trees,  rocks, 
bridges,  houses,  castles,  ruins,  etc.,  and  in  his  study,  from  these 
materials,  assisted  by  his  imagination,  to  make  up  those  beautiful 
compositions  that  have  given  him  the  very  highest  position  as 
a  landscape  painter,  Mr.  Ruskin's  opinion  to  the  contrary  not-  ' 
•withstanding. 

This  bringing  together  of  separate  parts  of  the  material  world 
to  make  a  congenial  whole  is  but  the  method  pursued  by  the 
ancient  sculptors  in  the  composition  of  some  of  their  most 
beautiful  figures,  as  previously  pointed  out ;  and  also  by  their 
figure-painters,  as  by  Zeuxis  in  his  picture  of  Helen,  which,  we 
^re  told,  was  modelled  from  seven  of  the  handsomest  females  to 
be  found  in  all  Greece  ;  and  sometimes  by  the  poet,  as  by  Byron 
in  bis  admirable  description  of  the  shipwreck  in  Don  Juan, 
which  was  drawn,  as  he  himself  tells  us,  "  not  from  any  single 


28  DIFFEEENT   CLASSES    OF   PAINTING. 

narration,  but  from  well-authenticated  facts  of  several  ship- 
wrecks." 

The  terms  classic  and  heroic  are  sometimes  employed  to  desig- 
nate this  kind  of  landscape,  to  distinguish  it  from  that  called 
pastoral  or  rustic,  the  representation  of  uncultivated  nature. 
Heroic  as  well  as  pastoral,  how^ever,  be  it  remembered,  and  in- 
deed every  kind  of  landscape  painting,  like  the  ideal  in  sculp- 
ture, is  intended  to  be  a  representation  of  nature. 

It  is  claimed  for  these  compositions  of  Claude  that  they  are 
historical  landscapes,  because  he  has  introduced  into  each  of 
them  groups  of  figures  representing  some  historical  incident. 
In  one  of  them  —  that  called  "  Noon  "  —  is  the  Holy  Family 
resting  under  the  shadow  of  a  tree  on  their  journey  into  Egypt. 
In  another  is  a  group,  Jacob  watering  his  sheep  at  a  fountain 
by  the  w^ayside.  In  another  —  that  of  Evening  —  are  Tobias 
and  the  angel. 

In  these  paintings,  although  the  several  groups  thus  intro- 
duced give  an  historical  feature  to  them,  yet  they  are,  as  in  most 
representations  of  the  kind,  a  subordinate  part  of  the  composi- 
tion, and  are  always  out  of  place  unless  the  kind  of  scenery  and 
the  locality  justify  their  introduction,  —  which  is  not  here  the 
case,  the  materials  for  the  four  compositions  being  gathered 
in  Italy.  In  that  representing  ''  Noon,"  there  is  indeed  a  dis- 
tant view  of  the  great  pyramids,  but  they  are  surrounded  by 
Italian  architectural  ruins.  The  main  design  of  Claude  w^as  to 
make  a  landscape  painting ;  the  figures  were  an  afterthought, 
and  probably  executed,  as  is  often  the  case,  by  another  artist. 

There  is,  however,  a  species  of  landscape  painting  in  which 
the  landscape  is  subordinate  to  the  figiu*es,  as  in  Carlo  iVIaratti's 
painting  of  "Jacob  at  the  Well,"  and  Guide's  "Woman  of  Sa- 
maria." In  this  case  the  landscape  is  introduced  either  to 
exhibit  —  as  in  the  last  —  some  scenic  propriety,  or  —  as  in  the 
former  —  as  a  mere  embellishment  of  the  historic  design. 

There  is  much  difficulty  always,  in  the  combination  of  figurg 
and  landscape,  in  maintaining  subordination  and  unity,  yet  pre- 
serving the  interest  of  the  respective  parts ;  and  in  this  most 
artists  fail,  for  either  the  landscape  overwhelms  the  story,  or  the 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING.  29 

story  discredits  the  landscape,  or,  the  attention  being  equally 
divided  between  the  two,  the  interest  of  each  is  weakened,  —  as 
is  said  to  be  the  case  with  Gainsborough,  often  with  Moreland, 
and  still  more  frequently  in  the  Dutch  school.  In  Claude's 
representations  of  the  four  parts  of  the  day,  —  some  of  the  finest 
things  he  ever  executed,  as  far  as  the  scenery,  composition,  and 
coloring  are  concerned,  — the  two  results  just  now  indicated  are 
very  apparent.  The  landscape  overpowers  the  figures,  and  the 
figures  discredit  the  landscape. 

A  specimen  of  the  third  division  of  landscape,  namely,  "  the 
scene  of  a  'phenomenon^'  is  furnished  in  Danby's  well-known  de- 
sign, "  The  Sun  commanded  to  stand  still  by  Joshua,"  and  also 
in  that  far  superior  production  by  Nicholas  Poussin,  "  The  Del- 
uge," as  it  is  called,  —  but  improperly  so,  as  it  is  only  a  scene 
in  the  Deluge ;  for,  although  it  represents  the  dreary  waste  of 
desolation,  it  is  not  the  inundation  of  the  world. 


PORTPtAITURE. 

Portraiture,  in  its  most  extended  signification,  means  the 
painted  resemblance  of  any  object.  The  term,  however,  is  com- 
monly employed  to  designate  the  exact  representation  upon 
canvas  of  one  of  our  own  species. 

Contrary  to  the  almost  universal  impression,  this  is  a  very^ 
high  class  of  painting,  in  which  fewer  have  excelled  than  in  any 
other  department  of  the  art.  It  is  true,  almost  any  one  with 
eyes  and  hands  may,  in  the  process  of  time,  be  taught  to  paint 
what  may  with  many  pass  for  a  good  likeness,  for  the  process  up 
to  a  certain  point  is  merely  mechanical  ;  if  this  were  all,  we 
might  possibly  agree  even  with  those  who  have  been  led,  by  an 
ignorance  of  its  true  character  and  power,  to  consider  portrait 
painting  as  hardly  worthy  of  a  man  of  genius.  Resemblance  is 
indeed  wanted,  but  something  more  than  that  which  is  physical. 
It  certainly  is  not  to  such  that  belongs  the  above  compli- 
ment, but  to  that  characteristic  one,  ftxithful  and  much 
more  than  faithful,]  by  which,  as  Fuseli  magnificently  expresses 
it,   "Silanion,   in  the  face  of  ApoUodorus,  personified  habitual 


30  DIFFERENT   CLASSES    OF   PAINTING. 

indignation  ;  Apelles,  in  Alexander,  superhuman  ambition  ;  Raf- 
faelle,  in  Julio  Second,  pontifical  fierceness  ;  Titian,  in  Paulo 
Third,  testy  age  with  priestly  subtlety,  and  in  Machiavelli  and 
Cgesar  Borgia  the  features  of  conspiracy  and  of  treason.  That 
portrait  by  which  Rubens  contrasted  the  physiognomy  of  philo- 
sophic and  classic  acuteness  with  that  of  genius,  in  the  conver- 
sation piece  of  Grotius,  Memmius,  Lepsius,  and  himself;  that 
nice  Jind  delicate  discrimination  of  Vandyck  ;  that  power  of 
Reynolds,  which  substantiated  humor  in  Sterne,  tragedy  in  Sid- 
dons,  comedy  in  Garrick,  and  mental  and  corporeal  strife  in 
Johnson,  —  this  is  portraiture  worthy  the  highest  genius,  and 
upon  this  basis  it  takes  its  place  between  history  and  the 
drama." 

ALLEGORIC    PAIXTIXG. 

There  are  those  who  doubt  if  there  can  be  any  such  thing  as 
a  truly  allegoric  painting,  on  account  of  the  supposed  confined 
powers  of  the  art  in  the  way  of  narration  ;  a  written  allegory, 
to  which  allegoric  painting  should  run  parallel,  implying  an 
extended  nan^ation,  a  continuous  metaj^hor,  —  a  metaphor  being, 
as  every  school-boy  knows,  "a  figure  of  speech  or  thought, 
founded  upon  a  resemblance  which  one  object  bears  to  another, 
and  which  is  made  to  stand  for  it." 

The  objection,  however,  is  not  tenable  ;  for  although  narration 
is  the  greatest  difficulty  of  painting,  as  description  is  of  writing, 
if  an  allegory  could  not  be  represented  in  a  single  design  it 
miirht  and  has  been  done  in  a  series,  as  in  Cole's  three  well- 
known  paintings  called  "  The  Voyage  of  Life." 

There  is  no  gi-eat  difficulty,  however,  in  accomplishing  it  even 
in  a  single  design,  as  illustrated  in  "  The  School  of  Athens," 
one  of  the  series  of  frescos  in  the  Vatican,  by  Raphael,  painted 
by  order  of  Julius  Second,  and  representing  "  the  origin,  progress, 
and  final  establishment  of  Church  government";  in  which 
picture  "  Raphael,  designing  to  give  an  allegoric  display  of  the 
support  derived  to  religion  from  the  wisdom  of  man,  has 
brought  together,  in  a  room  suitably  decorated  with  statues 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING.  31 

of  Apollo  and  Minerva,  many  persons  of  various  times,  countries, 
and  conditions,  and  distinguished  in  their  day  and  generation 
for  their  knowledge  and  improvements,  to  rei)rcsent  the  at- 
tainments of  science  in  the  various  modes  of  philosophy. 

"  Pythagoras,  Zoroaster,  Archimedes,  Alcibiades,  Diogenes, 
Epictetus,  Aristippus,  Democritus,  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
others  are  there,  variously  and  characteristically  employed,  — 
Aristotle,  with  his  pupils,  appearing  to  be  listening  to  a  dis- 
course by  Plato,  the  central  figure  and  keystone  of  the  whole, 
which,  by  the  upward  pointing  of  his  finger,  may  be  supposed 
to  have  relation  to  the  doctrine  of  immortality,  or  the  nature  of 
the  worship  due  Jehovah  ;  the  intended  object  of  all  which  is 
to  declare  that  human  acquirements  in  the  discovery  of  truth 
prepared  the  minds  of  men  to  receive  the  more  perfect  display 
of  it  in  the  revelation  of  the  Gospel." 

The  well-know^n  painting  by  Schidoni,  at  Ptome,  —  so  much 
extolled  by  the  Hon.  George  S.  Hillard,  one  of  the  best  of 
American  critics  on  art,  —  in  which  the  figm'e  of  a  beautiful 
w-oman,  well  clad  and  apparently  w^ell  fed,  to  represent  Abun- 
dance, and  distributing  alms  to  tw^o  lame,  blind,  and  lean 
beggars,  to  personify  Suffering  Want,  and  all  to  represent  the 
abstract  idea  of  Charity,  is  generally  classed  as  allegoric.  It  is, 
however,  simply  si/iiiholic,  for  it  tells  no  continuous  story,  but, 
like  the  single  figures  of  Justice,  Prudence,  Religion,  luTiocence, 
and  others,  by  Raphael,  among  his  frescos  in  the  Vatican,  rep- 
resents only  a  single  idea  or  quality.  To  this  same  class  of 
symbolic  paintings  also  belong  the  two  fine  figures  of  Day  and 
Night,  by  ^lichael  Angelo,  on  the  tomb  of  the  j\Iedici,  at  Flor- 
ence, although  usually  spoken  of  as  allegoric. 


EPIC   PAINTING. 

This  is  the  highest  class  of  art,  and  admits  of  no  easy  analysis.^ 
We  are  furnished  by  the  books  with  several  definitions  of  epic 
ivritivrf,  but  none  of  them  entirely  satisfactory.     That  of  Bossu, 
that  "  it  is  a  discourse,  invented  by  art,  to  form  the  manners  of 
men  by  an  allegory  expressed  in  verse,"  has  been  accepted  by  so 


32  DIFFERENT   CLASSES    OF   PAINTING. 

sensible  a  writer  as  Mr.  Pope,  but  rejected  by  Mr.  Blair,  who 
says  that  it  would  as  well  suit  some  of  vEsop's  fables  if  they 
were  somewhat  extended  and  put  into  verse,  and  then  declares 
the  plain  account  of  an  epic  poem  to  be  "  the  illustrating  of 
some  great  and  general  idea  in  verse,  and  that  its  aim  is  to  arouse 
admiration  and  astonishment."  This  we  adopt  as  the  best  we 
can  find,  as  in  the  definition  we  discover  the  great  characteristic 
difference  between  epic  and  dramatic  writing,  "the  tragedy  of 
which,"  says  Mr.  Blair,  "  has  for  its  object  compassion,  and  the 
comedy  of  it  ridicule."  The  epic  is  further  distinguished  from 
the  drama  by  the  broad  and  liberal  manner  in  which  everything 
is  conducted,  by  its  admitting  no  discrimination  of  character, 
nothing,  in  short,  that  is  individually  characteristic,  other  than 
as  that  individual  trait  illustrates  the  leading  idea  of  the  poem, 
as  exemplified  in  the  parting  scene  between  Hector  and  Andro- 
mache in  the  Iliad,  a  poem  whose  subject  is  "  War,"  —  it  being 
there  admitted,  not  to  exhibit  a  phase  of  the  character  of  Hec- 
tor and  Andromache,  but  because  such  scenes  constitute  a  fea- 
ture in  all  warlike  operations. 

These  are  the  leading  characteristics  of  epic  as  distinguished 
from  dramatic  writing,  while  "  from  historic  writing  it  is  suffi- 
ciently separated  by  its  poetical  form  and  the  lilierty  of  fiction  it 
assumes,  and  from  every  form  of  comj^osition  by  its  general 
strain  and  spirit,  —  for  whether  in  action,  description,  or  senti- 
ment, in  the  epic  all  is  dignified,  sublime,  and  elevated." 

As  already  stated,  we  have  found  some  difficulty  in  gathering 
from  the  books  a  full  and  satisfactory  definition  of  epic  po^etry ; 
but  the  general  correctness  of  the  outline  here  given  finds  its  con- 
firmation in  the  admirable  criticism  on  the  Iliad  by  that  late  emi- 
nent Professor  of  the  English  Royal  Academy,  Fuseli,  a  writer  to 
whom  we  are  largely  indebted  in  this  classification  of  painting. 
"Homer,"  says  Fuseli,  "wishing  to  impress  one  forcible  idea  of 
?w<r," — for  the  epic  always  has  for  its  object  the  illustrating 
of  some  vast  idea,  some  great  maxim,  to  which  act  (that  is,  his- 
tory) and  agent  (that  is,  character,  or  the  drama)  are  subordi- 
nate,—  "Homer,  wishing  to  impress  one  forcible  idea  of  war,  its 
origin,  its  progress,  and  its  end,  set  to  work  innumerable  engines 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF     PAINTING.  3.') 

of  various  magnitudes,  yet  none  but  that  uniformly  tends  to 
force  this  and  only  this  idea  upon  the  mind.  No  character  is 
discriminated  but  where  discrimination  discovers  a  new  look  of 
war ;  no  passion  is  raised  but  what  is  blown  up  by  the  breath  of 
w\ar,  and  as  soon  alisorbed  in  its  universal  blaze  ;  as  in  a  confla- 
gration we  see  turrets  and  spires  and  temples  illuminated  only 
to  pn^pagate  the  horrors  of  destruction,  so,  through  the  stormy 
page  of  Homer,  we  see  his  heroes  and  his  heroines  only  by  the 
light  that  blasts  them." 

This  is  the  epic  poet ;  so  also  the  epic  painter,  his  aim  being 
equally  to  impress  one  general  idea,  is  in  like  manner  dignified, 
sublime,  and  elevated, — dealing  only  in  generals,  excluding  detail, 
admitting  no  minute  discrimination  of  character  or  introduction 
of  varied  pathos,  —  not  aiming  to  develop  the  man,  to  exhibit  the 
movements  of  the  heart,  as  that  w^oidd  be  dramatic, — not  striving 
to  present  the  portraiture  of  a  fact,  as  that  would  be  historic,  — 
but  causing  all  to  bend  to  one  great  and  leading  idea,  the  visi- 
ble agents  he  employs  are  only  the  agents  to  force  that  idea 
irresistibly  on  the  mind  and  fancy,  as  we  see  illustrated  with 
almost  superhuman  power  in  that  sublime  series  of  frcscos  by 
Michael  Angelo,  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  representing  Religion,  or, 
in  other  words,  the  origin,  progress,  and  final  dispensation  of 
Providence,  as  taught  in  the  Sacred  Records,  —  man,  his  ema- 
nation from  God,  the  object  of  his  veneration,  his  fall,  and 
his  expulsion  from  God's  immediate  presence,  his  reconciliation 
through  Christ,  and  his  reunion  with  the  Divine  Being  at  the 
last  Judgment. 

This  great  idea  Michael  Angelo  attempted  to  convey  and  il- 
lustrate by  a  series  of  designs,  twenty  or  more  in  number,  and 
these  are  the  titles  :  "  The  Forming  of  the  World  from  Chaos  ;  " 
''  The  Creation  of  Adam  "  ;  '*  The  Creation  of  Eve  "  ;  "  The  Eat- 
ing of  the  Forbidden  Fruit "  ;  "  The  Expulsion  from  Paradise"  ; 
''  The  Deluge  "  ;  the  scene  between  Noah  and  his  sons  ;  sepa- 
rate pictures  of  the  prophets,  sibyls,  and  patriarchs  ;  "  The  Bra- 
zen Serpent"  ;  "  Mordecai  and  Haman"  ;  "Judith  and  Holofer- 
nes  "  ;  and,  finally,  "  The  Last  Judgment." 

Now  although  each  and  every  one  of  these  pictures  consti- 


34  DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

tutes  an  independent  whole,  that  is,  is  a  complete  design  of  itself, 
yet  they  regularly  lead  to  each  other,  without  intermediate 
chasms  in  the  transitions,  each  preceding  one  preparing  and 
directing  the  conduct  of  the  next,  and  that  of  the  following,  and 
all  conspiring  to  one  great  end. 

Fuseli  was  the  first  to  discover  the  sublime  intent  of  its 
great  author,  and  his  masterly  manner  of  reading  it  precludes 
all  attempt  at  emendation  j  we  therefore  give  it,  word  for  word, 
in  his  own  language. 

"  The  veil  of  eternity  is  rent.  Time,  space,  and  matter  teem 
in  the  creation  of  the  elements  and  of  earth. 

"  Life  issues  from  God,  and  adoration  from  man,  in  the  creation 
of  Adam  and  his  mate. 

"  Transgression  of  the  precept  at  the  tree  of  knowledge  proves 
the  origin  of  evil,  and  of  expulsion  from  the  immediate  inter- 
course with  God. 

"The  economy  of  justice  and  grace  commences  in  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  Deluge,  and  the  covenant  made  with  Noah. 

"  The  germs  of  social  intercourse  are  traced  in  the  subsequent 
scene  between  him  and  his  sons. 

"  The  awful  synod  of  the  prophets  and  sibyls  are  the  heralds  of 
the  Kedeemer,  and  the  hosts  of  patriarchs  are  the  pedigree  of 
the  Son  of  man. 

"  The  brazen  serpent  and  the  fall  of  Haman,  the  giant  subdued 
by  the  stripling  David,  and  the  conqueror  subdued  by  female 
weakness  in  Judith,  are  types  of  his  mysterious  progress,  till 
Jonah  pronounces  him  immortal ;  and  the  magnificence  of  the 
last  judgment,  by  showing  the  Saviour  in  the  judge  of  men, 
sums  up  the  whole,  and  reunites  the  founder  and  the  race." 
/  This  is  epic  painting,  as  pure  and  perfect  in  all  its  parts  as 
the  Iliad,  Jerusalem  Delivered,  or  Paradise  Lost,  and  upon  this 
magnificent  specimen  rests  the  claim  of  Michael  Angelo  to  be 
called  "  the  Homer  of  the  art." 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   TAINTING. 


DKAMATIC  PAINTING. 


In  our  analysis  of  "  the  epic,"  we  stated  that  the  business  of 
both  the  epic  poet  and  epic  painter  was  the  illustrating  of  some 
great  general  idea,  and  that  to  this  everything  else  was  subor- 
dinate. The  fad,  that  is  history  ;  iKission,  character,  and  agent, 
that  is  the  drama. 

On  the  other  hand,  "  the  avowed  object  of  both  the  dramatic 
writer  and  jminter  is  to  exhibit  character,  to  develop  the  pas- 
sions, to  lay  open  the  heart,  and  to  excite  in  every  bosom  cor- 
responding emotions.  Whatever,  therefore,  by  reflected  self- 
love,  inspires  us  with  hope,  fear,  pity,  terror,  love,  or  mirth,  is 
the  legitimate  sphere  of  both  the  dramatic  poet  and  painter'' 

We  might  illustrate  these  characteristics  by  several  examples, 
for  the  art  is  full  of  dramatic  paintings  ;  but  for  the  present  pur- 
pose suffice  it  to  direct  the  attention  to  one  of  Raphael's  fres- 
cos in  the  Vatican,  called  "  La  Incendio  del  Borgo,"  or  the 
bm-ning  of  a  quarter  of  Rome  that  borders  on  St.  Peter's,  —  one 
of  the  extensive  series  of  large  paintings  by  that  master,  por- 
traying "  the  origin,  progress,  and  final  establishment  of  Church 
government." 

"  The  conflagration  that  gave  rise  to  this  design  occurred  to- 
wards the  middle  of  the  ninth  century,  under  the  pontificate  of 
Leo  the  Fourth.  Its  ravages  even  menaced  the  cathedral  itself, 
but  its  progress  was  stayed  by  the  benediction  of  the  Pope,  who 
appeared  with  great  magnificence  in  the  pontifical  lodge,  a 
gallery  in  the  peristyle  of  the  Vatican  ; "  so  says  the  historian. 

"  Now,  although  the  subject  is  derived  from  history,  yet  Ra- 
phael, in  illustrating  this  event,  has  almost  entirely  sacrificed 
that  part  of  it  to  the  eff'usion  of  the  various  passions  roused  by 
the  sudden  terrors  of  a  nocturnal  conflagration,  and  instead  of 
displaying  the  effects  of  flame  and  smoke  with  all  the  attendant 
circumstances,  as  they  really  did  occur,"  as  most  artists  would 
have  done,  "he  has  represented  the  affecting  scenes  that  might 
occur  upon  a  similar  occasion  an^'where,"  at  Rome  or  New 
York,  Paris  or  Boston,  in  the  village  or  the  city.  "  For  a  frantic 
mother  endeavoring  to  save  her  helpless  infants ;    a  kind  and 


36  DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

affectionate  son  bearing  from  the  rushing  ruins  an  aged  and 
palsied  father ;  a  son  of  nature,  intent  only  on  his  own  safety, 
liberating  a  leap  from  the  burning  walls;  and  a  prayer  sent 
up  by  the  thoughtful  for  heavenly  protection,  —  are  actions  as 
likely  to  be  performed  in  one  place  as  another,"  —  upon  the 
banks  of  the  Thames  or  the  Mystic  as  upon  those  of  the  Tiber ; 
for  human  nature  is  the  same  everywhere  now  as  a  thousand 
years  ago,  and  will  be  the  same  a  thousand  years  hence,  and  as 
long  as  man  continues  upon  this  earth. 

Raphael's  design  being  to  portray  the  common  events  of  a 
nocturnal  conflagration,  rather  than  of  this  particular  conflagra- 
tion, or  any  prominent  part  the  Pope  performed  in  it,  he  has 
not  cared  to  draw  attention  to  him  in  any  w-ay,  nor  has  he  de- 
lineated the  Italian  physiognomy  in  preference  to  any  other ; 
and  as  for  national  costume,  it  is  entirely  disregarded. 

It  is  true  he  has  introduced  the  Pope  and  his  train  into  the 
composition ;  "  but  w^hile  the  other  incidents  furnish  pathetic 
motives  that  touch  our  hearts,"  and  that  is  the  dramatic  of  the 
scene,  "the  Pontiff,  the  miracle,  and  the  clergy,"  and  that  is  the 
history  of  it,  "  are  left  unheeded  in  the  distance.  The  fact  has 
been  sunk  in  the  passion." 

This  is  the  tragedy  oi  dramatic  'painting,  — we  say  the  tragedy, 
for  it  has  also  its  comedy,  —  and  the  effect  of  such  a  representation 
upon  the  feelings,  as  compared  wdth  that  of  the  epic,  is  as  the 
effects  of  the  pathetic  tones  of  the  human  voice  contrasted  with 
the  heavy  rollings  of  "that  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe  of  na- 
ture," the  thunder,  —  the  one  melts,  the  other  terrifies  and 
astounds. 

As  Michael  Angelo  has  ever  been  considered  the  father  of  epic 
painting,  so  Raphael  has  ever  been  regarded  as  the  father  of 
dramatic  painting,  and  "  La  Incendio  del  Borgo"  shows  that  he 
possessed  an  intuition  of  the  pure  emanations  of  nature  that 
fully  entitles  him  to  be  called  "  the  Shakespeare  of  the  art." 


DIFFERENT  CLASSES   OF  PAINTING.  37 

HISTORIC  PAINTING. 

"  Historic  "  is  a  term  not  imfrequently  employed  by  those  who 
are  imperfectly  acquainted  with  the  technicalities  and  philosophy 
of  Art  to  designate  almost  anything  that  is  neither  landscape  nor 
portraiture  ;  it  may,  however,  with  strict  propriety  be  applied  to 
both  one  and  the  other.  Portraiture  in  the  hands  of  Titian, 
Reynolds,  Stuart,  and  others,  and  landscape  in  the  hands  of 
Claude,  Poussin,  and  others,  sometimes  became  historical. 

Specimens  of  historical  landscape  were  referred  to  when  de- 
scribing that  class  of  painting.  A  specimen  of  historic  portraiture 
is  furnished  us  in  Reynolds's  fine  portrait  of  General  Elliot,  after- 
wards Lord  Heathfield,  the  British  commander  at  Gibraltar 
in  the  3'ear  when  it  was  attacked  by  the  combined  French  and 
Spanish  forces,  —  an  event  that  has  been  well  represented  by 
Copley  in  a  painting  belonging  to  the  Boston  Athseneum. 

Now  Reynolds's  design  in  this  painting  was  not  simply  to 
give  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Elliot,  but  of  General  Elliot,  not  only  that, 
but  of  the  successful  defender  of  Gibraltar  upon  that  occasion. 

He  has  therefore  represented  him  in  his  military  costume, 
and  holding  in  his  hands  a  key,  in  symbolic  allusion  to  the  fact 
of  that  citadel  being  the  key  to  the  Mediterranean.  In  the  dis- 
tance may  be  seen  the  two  squadrons  at  the  moment  of  battle, 
and  behind  him  a  cannon  pointed  downwards  to  show  the 
loftiness  of  the  fortress,  —  all  which  surroundings  connect  him 
with  that  transaction,  and  thus  make  the  representation  a  good 
illustration  of  historic  portraiture. 

But  to  define  the  class  under  consideration  more  particularly, 
it  may  be  proper  to  state  that  the  painter  of  pure  history  does 
not,  like  the  dramatic  painter,  represent  that  which  might  he,  but 
that  which  ivas  or  is.  He  gives  a  "  local  habitation  and  a 
name,"  he  fixes  the  moment  of  reality,  he  informs. 

Of  this  class  of  painting,  familiar  examples  present  themselves 
in  "  The  Death  of  Montgomery,"  by  Trumbull,  "  The  Death  of 
Wolfe,"  by  West,  "The  Death  of  Chatham,"  by  Copley,  and 
"  Washington  crossing  the  Delaware,"  by  Sully. 

Although  all  of  these  have  many  defects,  both  in  design  and 


38  DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

in  composition  and  color,  yet  the  attention  is  invited  to  that  of 
"  The  Death  of  Chatham,"  as  the  artist  has  invested  it  with  many 
of  those  characteristics  that  distinguish  this  class  of  painting 
from  those  already  described,  namely,  the  Epic  and  Dramatic. 

This  composition  represents  a  scene  that  occurred  in  the 
English  House  of  Lords,  A.  D.  1778,  when  the  elder  Pitt,  Lord 
Chatham,  left  his  sick-bed  to  be  present  on  amotion  of  the  Duke 
of  Richmond  to  address  the  King  on  the  state  of  the  nation. 
He  had  spoken  once,  was  rising  to  speak  the  second  time,  but, 
faltering,  sat  down ;  attempted  it  once  more,  but  again  faltered, 
and  fell  into  the  arms  of  those  near  him. 

The  object  of  the  painter,  therefore,  being  in  this  picture  to 
give  the  idea  of  a  member  of  the  English  House  of  Lords  dying, 
surrounded  by  his  associates,  and  that  member  "  the  immortal 
Chatham,"  paralyzed,  struck  down  in  the  midst  of  his  parliamen- 
tary labors,  —  it  may  have  been,  by  the  thunders  of  his  own  elo- 
quence, —  it  became  him  to  invest  the  composition  with  all  the 
real  modification  of  time,  place,  and  circumstance  that  should 
distinguish  this  moment  of  alarm  and  grief  from  all  others.  He 
has  not,  therefore,  dealt  in  generals  (for  that  would  be  epic),  but 
particulars ;  has  not  brought  together  characters  fittest  to  excite 
the  gradations  of  sympathy  (for  that  would  be  dramatic) ;  but 
we  there  behold  everything  as  it  actually  was,  and  actually  oc- 
curred, —  an  exact  representation  of  the  hall  in  which  the  event 
transpired,  even  of  the  tapestry  that  adorned  its  walls ;  we  have 
too  the  very  figure,  face,  and,  perhaps,  expression  of  Chatham, 
the  ph3^siognomic  character  of  him  and  his  compeers,  and  all 
stamped  by  the  ceremonial  and  distinctive  costume  of  the  Upper 
House  of  the  Parliament  of  Great  Britain  in  the  year  1778. 

Although  this  painting  does  not  place  Copley  by  the  side  of 
the  old  masters,  ^^et  it  gives  him  a  very  respectable  rank  as  an 
historical  painter.  It  has  about  it  one  circumstance  that  shows 
him  to  have  been  a  considerate,  thoroughbred  gentleman,  namely, 
the  manner  of  arranging  the  assembly  around  the  hero  of  the 
piece.  Supposing  that  assembly  desirous  of  preserving  the  life 
of  Chatham,  he  has  brought  about  him  only  as  many  of  his 
friends  as  were  absolutely  necessary  for  his  comfort,  — an  arrange- 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING.  39 

ment  that  left  a  free  passage  for  the  circulation  of  air,  so  im- 
portant to  one  supposed  to  be  in  the  agonies  of  death  ;  thus 
showing  not  simply  his  own  sense  of  proi)riety,  but  likewise  the 
kind  and  dignified  manners  of  thoroughbred  people,  —  an  idea 
that  never  would  have  occurred  to  a  vulgar  artist. 

AVe  stated  just  now  that  the  painter  of  pure  history  presents 
us  with  "  the  portraiture  of  a  fact."  From  this,  however,  it  is 
not  to  be  inferred  that  every  pictorial  delineation  of  a  past  event 
is  entitled  to  be  called  an  historical  picture,  though  the  subject 
of  it  be  derived  from  a  printed  record. 

*'The  fact  presented  must  be  something  momentous,  impor- 
tant, and  of  general  interest,  treated  in  a  grave  and  dignified 
manner." 

"  "Washington  crossing  the  Delaware  with  his  Troops,"  by 
Sully,  is  an  historical  painting  ;  but  the  painting  some  time  since 
on  exhibition,  representing  Sergeant  Smith's  escape  from  the 
British,  is  not,  although  that  event  is  recorded  in  the  annals  of 
the  War  of  the  Revolution. 

If  paintings  of  this  description  be  historical  in  any  sense,  they 
belong  to  a  very  subordinate  species,  and  hold  the  same  rank  by 
the  side  of  such  great  and  important  delineations  as  will  readily 
occur  to  any  one  from  both  sacred  and  profane  writings,  as  pri- 
vate memoirs  do  by  the  side  of  such  works  as  Hume's  History 
of  England,  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States,  or  Motley's 
History  of  the  Dutch  Republic. 

Such  are  some  of  the  stricter  outlines  of  those  three  highest 
branches  of  art,  epic,  dramatic,  and  historic  painting.  But  as 
"their  near  alliance  admits  not  always  a  nice  discrimination  of 
their  limits,  as  the  mind  and  fancy  of  man  consists  upon  the 
whole  of  mixed  principles,  we  seldom  meet,  either  in  letters  or  in 
art,  with  a  human  performance  made  up  entirely  of  either  ejnc, 
dramatic,  or  pure  historic  materials,  —  combined  as  they  are 
among  themselves,  sometimes  we  find  them  calling  in  the  aid  of 
allegory." 

The  well-know^n  series  of  large  designs  belonging  to  the 
French  government,  and  painted  by  Rubens,  called  "  The 
Gallery  of  the  Luxembourg,"  representing  some  passages  in  the 


40  DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

life  of  Mary  de  Medici,  belong  to  the  class  of  "  combined  historic 
and  allegoric." 

"  In  one  of  them  the  artist  has  represented  the  royal  maiden 
at  the  Poetic  Fount  surrounded  by  the  Graces,  and  introduced 
by  Minerva,  —  the  symbols  of  the  education  received  by  that 
Princess." 

Another  example  presents  itself  in  "  The  Finding  of  Moses"  by 
Poussin,  "  in  the  personification  of  the  genius  of  the  river  in  the 
figure  of  a  water-god." 

Of  the  historic  and  dramatic  combined,  a  remarkable  instance 
may  be  found  in  what  are  commonly  called  "  The  Cartoons." 

The  word  "  cartoon"  is  a  general  term  used  to  designate  a 
drawing  in  charcoal  or  colors  upon  either  paper  or  canvas, 
sometimes  only  an  outline  of  a  group  or  single  figure,  to  be 
transferred  to  and  finished  upon  the  wall  or  ceiling  or  canvas. 

When,  however,  "  The  Cartoons  "  are  spoken  of,  they  always 
mean  a  series  of  designs  by  Raphael,  orginally  twenty  or  more 
in  number,  but  now  by  loss  reduced  to  seven,  and  about 
eighteen  feet  by  twelve  in  size,  painted  upon  canvas  as  models 
for  tapestry,  by  order  of  Leo  the  Tenth,  and  representing  "  The 
Origin,  Economy,  and  Progress  of  the  Christian  Religion." 

Seven  of  them  are  the  property  of  the  British  government, 
and  the  subjects  of  them  are  :  "  Paul  preaching"  ;  "  The  Mirac- 
ulous Draught";  "Christ  giving  the  Keys  to  Peter";  "The 
Death  of  Ananias";  "  Elymas  struck  blind";  "The  Sacrifice 
at  Lystra"  ;  and  "  Peter  and  John  healing  the  Lame  Man  at  the 
Gate  of  the  Temple." 

As  is  well  known,  they  rank  among  the  highest  efforts  of  art, 
and  there  are  those  who  think  there  can  scarcely  be  named  a 
beauty  or  a  m3^stery  of  which  "  The  Cartoons  "  furnish  not  an 
example.  We  have  no  space  to  devote  to  a  further  description, 
nor  is  it  necessary,  as  it  can  be  found  almost  everywhere.  We 
have  only  referred  to  them  at  all  for  the  purpose  of  illustrating, 
by  the  first  mentioned,  the  following  class  of  art. 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES    OF   PAINTING.  41 

COMBINED  HISTORIC  AND  DRAMATIC  PAINTING. 

The  record  tells  us  that  while  Paul  was  disputing  in  the 
synagogue  with  the  Jews  and  other  devout  persons  at  Athens, 
he  was  encountered  by  certain  philosophers  of  the  Epicureans 
and  Stoics,  who,  being  desirous  to  know  more  particularly 
concerning  the  new  doctrine,  had  the  Apostle  brought  to  the 
Ai'eopagus  or  Mars  Hill. 

He  has  ascended  the  steps  of  a  temple,  and  from  his  ges- 
tm-e  and  attitude  may  be  supposed  to  be  announcing,  to  the  as- 
sembled people,  Christ,  the  resurrection,  and  the  unknown  God. 

Now,  at  first  sight,  this  composition  might  seem  to  possess 
all  the  requisites  of  a  pure  historical  composition,  that  is,  to  be 
a  correct  representation  of  the  fact  set  forth  in  the  Scriptural 
record  ;  but  a  slight  examination  will  show  important  variations. 

In  the  first  place,  as  it  regards  the  person  of  Paul.  Instead 
of  being  portrayed,  agreeably  to  the  Apostle's  own  account  of 
himself,  of  "  an  humble  exterior,"  the  painter  has  invested  him 
with  ever}'  circumstance  that  could  give  him  importance. 

This  is  not  objected  to.  We  only  state  a  fact ;  for  Eaphael, 
knowing  that  painting  can  express  its  meaning  only  through 
the  medium  of  form,  was  perhaps  compelled  to  give  him  an 
appearance  corresponding  to  the  dignity  of  his  calling  and  his 
character,  otherwise  he  could  not  have  satisfied  the  idea  every 
one  forms  of  the  personnel  of  Paul  from  his  writings  and  his 
record.  This  mode  of  representation,  as  far  as  it  goes,  takes  the 
painting  out  of  the  class  of  the  purely  historic. 

And  then  the  assemblage  itself,  instead  of  being  made  up 
of  such  persons  as  might  be  supposed  to  have  followed  the 
Epicureans  and  the  Stoics  in  their  retreat  from  the  market- 
place, is  not  a  promiscuous  group,  but  a  selected  audience, 
each  figure  representing  a  sect  or  class  of  all  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  philosophy  then  in  vogue  at  Athens.  "  The 
Cynic,  the  Stoic,  the  disciple  of  Plato,  the  disputants  of  the 
Academy,  the  Sophists,  are  all  there,  characteristically  deline- 
ated ;  the  Jewish  doctor,  who  has  turned  his  back  upon  the 
speaker  and  rejected  the  mission,  with  Damaris  and  Dionysius, 


42  DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING. 

who  announce  by  their  impassioned  looks  and  gestures  their  re- 
nunciation of  idolatry  and  acceptance  of  the  Christian  faith." 

In  this  mode  of  representation  it  will  be  seen  that  a  broader 
field  for  Raphael's  dramatic  power  was  obtained  than  if  he 
had  strictly  followed  the  Scriptural  record,  and  that  "although 
the  fact  therein  set  forth  is  not  entirely  lost  sight  of,  it  has  been 
made  in  a  great  degree  the  medium  tlirough  v/hich  to  display 
the  agent,  his  passion  and  character,  —  or,  in  other  words,  the 
effect  produced  upon  a  learned  audience  by  a  doctrine  new  and 
important." 

In  "  La  Incendio  del  Borgo  "  the  historical  fact  is  entirely 
absorbed  in  the  passion  ;  here  there  is  a  union  of  the  two,  and 
this  composition  presents  as  good  an  example,  probably,  as 
could  be  found  of  "  combined  historic  and  dramatic  painting." 

The  different  manner  in  which  these  several  classes  impress 
us  is  worthy  of  observation,  as  it  may  assist  us  in  determining 
the  class  to  which  paintings  belong,  or  at  least  enable  us  to  de- 
tect their  leading  features. 

In  viewing  an  historical  composition  like  that  of  "  The  Death 
of  Chatham,"  the  sentiment  chiefly  aroused  is  that  of  curiosity. 
We  look  at  the  man ;  we  examine  his  person  and  that  of  his 
compeers,  their  dress,  the  room,  its  adornments.  Little  feel- 
ing is  awakened.  But  immediately  the  eye  falls  upon  a  dra- 
matic representation  like  that  of  "  La  Incendio  del  Borgo,"  the 
heart  is  touched,  the  affections  are  excited  ;  we  bear  a  part  of 
the  burden  of  the  son  ;  we  fly  with  the  mother  to  the  rescue  of 
her  child  ;  we  hope,  we  fear,  —  we  experience,  by  turns,  all  the 
several  passions  there  developed.  Here  the  eye  has  little  desire 
to  be  gratified,  —  it  looks  not  to  the  form,  the  costume,  the  place  ; 
but  we  feel,  and  we  feel  because  a  corresponding  chord  is  struck 
in  every  human  bosom. 

In  looking  at  such  compositions  as  that  of  Paul,  the  feeling, 
as  the  design  itself,  is  compound.  At  first  we  think  of  Paul,  the 
Areopagus,  the  market-place  ;  we  examine  the  audience ;  we 
approach  the  speaker,  and  as  we  gaze,  the  magic  of  his  eloquence 
falls  upon  the  ear  ;  we  listen,  and  as  we  hear,  each,  according  to 
his  disposition,  objects  with  the  Cynic,  becomes  incredulous  with 


DIFFERENT   CLASSES   OF   PAINTING.  43 

the  Stoic,  with  the  disciple  of  Plato  is  pleased  with  the  beauty 
of  the  doctrine,  accepts  it  with  Damaris  and  Dionysiiis,  or  re- 
jects it  with  the  Jew. 

How  different  from  all  and  each  the  ejnc  !  Here  curiosity  has 
no  wish  to  be  gratified,  the  eye  no  desire  to  be  satisfied.  Man, 
his  feelings,  his  sufferings,  his  character,  his  passions,  makes  no 
appeal  to  the  human  bosom.  It  is  God,  God's  providence,  which 
alone  we  contemplate,  which  absorbs  all  our  thoughts,  and  leaves 
us  transfixed  with  wonder  and  amazement. 


ESSAY    III. 

INVENTION. 

HAVING  now  considered,  to  the  extent  our  limits  will 
permit,  the  principles  of  beauty,  and  described,  as  we 
trust,  mtelligibly,  the  different  classes  of  painting,  we  come 
next  briefly  to  examine  the  first  of  its  constituent  portions,  in- 
vention, —  composition  being  the  second,  design  third,  chiaro- 
oscuro  fourth,  color  fifth,  and  expression  the  sixth  and  last. 
/  Invention  holds  the  first  place,  not  only  in  the  order  of  enu- 
meration, but  likewise  in  value  and  importance ;  for  it  is  that 
lofty  quality  of  the  human  mind  that  unequivocally  distin- 
guishes the  pioneer  from  the  follower,  the  originator  from  the 
imitator  and  copyist. 

Pan,  when  he  first  tuned  his  pipe  to  music  in  the  forest  of 
Arcadia,  and  the  Cretan  maid,  when  she  drew  on  the  heaven- 
lighted  wall  the  likeness  of  her  departing  lover,  were  inventors 
in  the  highest  signification  of  the  term,  the  chosen  of  the 
Almighty  to  impart  some  new  evidence  of  his  benevolence  to 
man. 

This  is  the  loftiest  effort  of  the  inventive  faculty.  There  is, 
however,  a  subordinate  exercise  of  it,  not  that  which  is  em- 
,  ployed  in  the  discovery  or  revelation  of  any  new  art  or  science, 
but  in  the  extension  of  its  limits  —  as  of  painting  by  Hogarth 
—  to  the  purposes  of  satire,  or  in  the  application  of  the  princi- 
ples of  the  art  to  illustrating  in  a  novel  and  ingenious  manner 
some  old  or  hitherto  unattempted  subject. 

This  last  is  the  ordinary  business  of  the  inventive  faculty.  Of 
the  many  topics  that  present  themselves  for  consideration  under 
this  general  head,  we  shall  confine  our  remarks  to  three  only, 
namely,  the  selection  of  a  subject  within  the  scope  of  art,  the 


INVENTION.  45 

sources  whence  an  artist  generally  derives  his  theme,  and  the 
point  of  time  most  fitting  for  representation.  And  first  of  the 
selection  of  a  subject. 

When  an  artist  sits  down  before  his  easel,  on  which  is  sus- 
pended a  piece  of  pure  white  canvas,  if  he  would  not  throw  away 
his  time  and  materials,  he  should  first  be  sure  that  he  has  a  sub- 
ject ;  for,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  there  are  a  great  many  paint- 
ings otherwise  well  executed  that  have  none.  There  are  those 
who  think  one  presents  itself  among  "  The  Cartoons,"  "  The  De- 
livery of  the  Keys  to  St.  Peter  "  representing  a  numerous  group 
of  grave  and  devout  characters,  in  attitudes  of  anxious  debate 
and  eager  curiosity,  pressing  forward  to  witness  the  behest  of  a 
person  who  with  one  hand  presents  two  massy  keys  to  the  fore- 
most on  his  knees,  and  with  the  other  hand  points  to  a  flock  of 
sheep  grazing  behind. 

Now  the  design  of  Raphael  in  this  composition  was,  doubtless, 
not  only  to  give  the  characteristic  attitudes,  forms,  and  expres- 
sion of  Christ  and  his  disciples  at  the  time  he  bade  them  go 
preach  the  gospel  to  every  nation,  but  that  from  the  attending 
circumstances  should  be  inferred  the  command  itself,  and  that 
its  object  was  the  propagation  of  the  gospel  under  the  general 
superintendence  of  St.  Peter  as  the  great  shepherd  of  souls, 
head  of  the  church,  and  keeper  of  the  fold  upon  earth,  and  it 
may  be,  in  addition,  keeper  of  the  gates  of  heaven. 

This,  probably,  was  Pvaphael's  design  in  this  picture.  The 
question,  then,  to  be  answered  is,  whether  he  has  accomplished  it. 

Although  the  grouping  in  this  composition  is  good,  and  the 
diversity  of  character  well  marked,  yet,  as  it  is  impossible  to 
trace  the  connection  between  those  keys  that  Peter  holds  in 
his  hand  and  the  pasturing  herd,  or  to  discover  in  the  other- 
wise obtrusive  allegory  or  symbol  the  real  motives  of  the  emo- 
tion that  inspires  the  apostolic  group,  it  has  been  pronounced 
by  that  learned  critic,  painter,  and  professor,  Fuseli,  "a  com- 
position without  a  subject."  And  the  decision,  if  well  founded, 
settles  the  character  and  the  fate  of  a  large  portion  of  the  paint- 
ings that  hang  upon  our  walls,  or  are  seen  in  our  exhibition 
rooms, — they  tell  no  story  ;  it  is  not  enough  that  the  artist 


46  INVENTION. 

tells  one  for  them  when,  in  the  catalogue,  he  calls  his  picture 
this,  that,  or  the  other,  and  the  engraver  indorses  it  all  in  decisive 
black  letters,  directly  under  the  middle  of  the  transcript. 

Every  painting  that  is  up  to  its  theme  should  tell  its  own 
story  without  assistance,  and  impress  the  spectators  as  does 
the  written  description ;  this  is  the  test  of  a  well-constructed 
picture. 

The  difficulty  here  results  not  oftener  from  the  inability  of  the 
artist  than  from  the  theme  itself  not  being  within  the  capabili- 
ties of  the  art ;  the  picture  presented  to  the  mind's  eye  bj^  the 
written  description  oftener  deriving  its  effect  and  its  interest 
from  circumstances  not  actually  present,  from  metaphor,  from 
passionate  sentiment,  which  cannot  be  expressed  on  canvas,  — 
as  would  be  the  case  with  the  story  of  the  girl  who 

"  .  .  .  .  never  told  her  love, 
But  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  the  bud, 
Feed  on  her  damask  cheek,"  etc. 

Now  this,  at  first  thought,  is  a  very  inviting  subject  for  the 
pencil,  and  there  have  been  frequent  attempts  to  put  the  picture 
on  canvas,  but  it  has  always  resulted  in  the  portrayal  simply 
of  a  "  consumptive,"  whose  fate  may  be  well  symbolized  by  the 
falling  leaves  of  a  wounded,  dying  rose,  and  that  is  all  one  can 
get  from  it ;  her  concealed  love  is  still  concealed,  or  is  known 
only  by  reading  the  title  of  the  painting  in  the  catalogue.  When 
one  learns  this  from  the  book,  or  is  kindly  informed  of  it  by  the 
artist,  the  interest  increases  ;  but  it  does  not  result  from  any- 
thing in  the  painting.  Unless  one  had  such  assistance  at  hand 
he  never  could  discover  what  was  intended  by  the  delineation. 
'  Not  so  with  "  The  Death  of  Chatham,"  "  The  Burning  of 
the  Borgo,"  the  Madonnas  of  Raphael;  "  Dimcan  Gray"  and 
"  The  Rent-Day  "  by  Wilkie,  and  others  that  must  readily  occur 
to  any  one  acquainted  with  art.  These  are  paintings  whose  sub- 
jects are  within  the  capabilities  of  the  art,  that  tell  their  own 
story  without  obliging  one  to  resort  to  the  catalogue,  the  artist, 
or  the  engraver's  inscription;  and  they  are  generally  interesting 
and  intelligible,  because  they  speak  the  voice  of  nature,  the  lan- 
miaffe  of  the  heart. 


INVENTION.  47 

The  topic  that  under  the  head  of  Invention  next  suggests  it- 
self relates  to  the  sources  whence  the  artist  generally  selects 
his  subject. 

Among  the  old  Italian  masters,  the  subjects  of  painting  were 
generally  taken  either  from  history,  popular  tradition,  heathen 
mythology,  or  the  lives  of  the  saints  and  martyrs  ;  there  are 
but  few  derived  from  poetry,  —  of  works  of  the  highest  fame 
only  one,  "  The  Last  Judgment,"  by  Michael  Angelo,  the  hints  for 
which  were  furnished  by  Dante's  Inferno. 

In  the  present  age,  however,  poetry  furnishes  by  far  the 
greatest  number  of  subjects,  whilst  the  joys  and  sufferings  of  the 
saints  and  martyrs,  since  the  powers  of  the  Romish  Church  have 
become  circumscribed  and  its  means  of  patronage  limited,  have 
been  almost  entirely  neglected. 

Heathen  mythology,  too,  which  fifty  years  since  nearly  mo- 
nopolized the  pencil  of  the  artist,  seems  to  have  lost  its  hold  on 
the  public  taste ;  and  whilst  the  Sacred  Records  have  not  been 
entirely  neglected,  a  very  large  number  of  modern  artists  have 
found  subjects  for  the  canvas  in  the  pages  of  romance,  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  material  universe,  the  animal  creation,  and  the 
events  and  imagery  of  common  life.  The  pages  of  satire,  too, 
have  furnished  their  quota  of  subjects ;  and  in  the  more  direct 
exposition  of  the  follies  of  vice,  fashion,  and  immorality  have 
afforded  a  fine  offset  and  foil  to  the  more  agreeable  display  of 
virtuous  conduct. 

It  will  thus  be  seen,  that,  while  the  boundaries  of  art  have 
been  extended,  a  very  great  change  has  taken  place  in  regard  to 
the  sources  whence  it  derives  its  subjects,  and  consequently 
that  a  very  gi-eat  change  has  taken  place  in  the  public  feelings 
and  taste,  —  for  the  arts,  like  the  stage,  do  but  echo  back  the 
public  voice. 

Whether  the  change  has  been  for  the  better  we  cannot  tell. 
In  the  opinion  of  some,  it  indicates  in  the  public  less  regard  for 
religion,  and  a  greater  readiness  to  lay  bare  to  public  inspection 
and  ridicule  the  vices  and  follies  of  society ;  but  with  it  also  is 
exhibited  more  sympathy  with  and  a  keener  love  for  the  beau- 
ties of  nature,  and  a  higher  appreciation  of  the  domestic  virtues. 


48  INVENTION. 

We  have  considered  thus  far  only  the  foreign  sources  whence 
an  artist  generally  derives  his  subjects.  Sometimes  he  chooses 
to  be  wholly  original,  and  combine  them  from  himself,  as  did 
Allston  in  his  "  Spanish  Maid  in  Revery,"  "  Fair  Inez,"  "  The 
Roman  Lady";  Raphael,  in  most  of  his  Madonnas,  "  The  School 
of  Athens,"  etc. ;  and  Michael  Angelo,  in  his  so-called  ''  Battle  of 
Pisa,"  of  which  we  shall  speak  hereafter. 

In  these  compositions  it  is  only  the  subject  that  is  original, 
the  naked  idea  only  is  invented ;  but  in  Fuseli's  well-known 
design  of  "  The  Nightmare,"  representing  a  female  reclining 
upon  a  bed  with  a  "  squab  fiend  sitting  upon  her  breast  as  she 
sleeps,"  not  only  is  the  subject  original,  but  the  fiend  himself  is 
a  purely  ideal  figure,  nothing  like  it,  as  a  whole,  being  to  be 
found  in  nature. 

In  viewing  such  original  compositions,  we  are  almost  inclined 
to  attribute  to  the  artist  the  powers  of  creation,  forgetting  that 
to  create  is  to  give  existence  to  something  that  never  before  had 
existence  in  ivhole  or  in  parts  ;  and  all  pictorial  representations, 
be  they  ever  so  original  in  their  construction,  are,  at  the  best, 
only  new  combinations  of  old  existences. 

Professor  Agassiz,  who  examined  this  drawing  of  "  The  Night- 
mare," and  another  of  a  "  Devil  tormenting  St.  Anthony,"  by 
Salvator  Rosa,  thought  he  detected  in  the  head  of  the  former  the 
monkey  with  ass's  ears,  and  in  the  head  of  the  latter  the  hog, 
in  the  beak  some  ravenous  bird,  in  the  arms  the  skeleton  wings 
of  the  eagle,  in  the  legs  the  bones  of  a  man,  and  in  the  tail 
the  monkey.  The  original  of  all  but  the  head  of  "  The  Night- 
mare "  he  could  not  determine  with  any  exactness,  but  he  had 
no  doubt  of  its  being  selected  and  combined  from  real  exist- 
ences. Nor  could  it  be  otherwise,  as  Mr.  Addison  remarks  in 
one  of  his  papers  in  the  Spectator.  "  We  cannot,"  he  says,  "  have 
a  single  image  in  the  fancy  that  did  not  at  first  make  its  entrance 
through  the  sight ;  but  we  have  the  power  of  retaining,  altering, 
and  compounding  those  images  into  all  the  varieties  of  picture 
and  vision  most  agreeable  to  us."  The  same  idea  has  been 
strongly  expressed  and  extended  by  Fuseli,  when,  in  one  of  his 
admirable  discourses,  he  says :  "Man  can  only  find  out  and  bring 


INVENTION.  49 

'together  into  one  body  scattered  2^<^rts,  and  thus  compose  a  neiv 
form,  one  that,  as  a  whole,  did  not  before  exist,  — that  is,  he 
can  invent  (find  out),  but  he  cannot  create.  Creation  impHes 
omnipotence,  and  belongs  only  to  God." 

This  same  method  of  uniting  old  and  scattered  materials  to 
produce  new  forms  obtains  likewise  in  the  structure  and  pictorial 
representation  of  centaurs  and  satyrs,  elves  and  fairies,  wizards 
and  witches,  ghosts  and  hobgoblins,  sylphs  and  naiads,  mer- 
maids, angels,   and  cherubs. 

All  representations  of  angels,  are  but  refinements  of  our 
own  corruptible  bodies,  with  the  addition  of  dove's  wings  ;  so 
also  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  of  Scripture,  save  that  from  the 
former  the  body  is  omitted,  although  we  sometimes  see  them 
painted  with  the  entire  figure. 

All  attempts  to  portray  the  Divine  Being  have  resulted  in 
giving  us  nothing  more  than  the  venerable  form  of  an  aged  man, 
"not  because,"  as  remarked  by  Reynolds,  "we  are  said  to  have 
been  created  in  his  image,  but  because  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
of  any  form  more  grand  in  nature."  The  Greek  sculptors  did 
nothing  more  for  Jupiter,  the  father  of  gods,  with  a  few  symbols 
added.  It  is  in  the  venerable  form  of  an  aged  man  that  Raphael 
has  portrayed  the  Almighty  in  his  fresco  in  the  Vatican  of  '"God 
dividing  the  Light  from  the  Darkness,"  and  Michael  Angelo  in 
that  other  greater  production,  "  God  creating  Adam  and  Eve." 

"  The  Cumean  Sibyl "  by  this  same  master,  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  is  but  a  better  kind  of  witch ;  and,  if  resemblance 
proves  relationship,  it  has  been  the  mother  of  all  the  pictorial 
delineation  of  witches,  down  through  Reynolds,  Fuseli,  and 
AUston  to  the  present  day,  —  a  large-boned,  sharp-featured,  tall, 
thin,  bent-over  "  old  woman,"  just  the  form  that  Shakespeare 
p-ave  the  skin-dried  hao'S,  as  thev  sat  mumblins:  over  the 
charmed  pot  in  Macbeth,  and  in  which,  afterwards,  Hecate  and 
her  infernal  gang  encountered  Banquo  and  the  Scottish  king 
upon  the  blasted  heath. 

And  that  other  creature  of  the  imagination,  the  fairy, 
whether  represented  by  the  artist  bathing  in  a  dew-drop  by 
sunshine,  or  recUning  on  a  bed  of  flowers,  or  dancing  on  meadow 
4 


50  INVENTION. 

or  woodland  by  moonlight,  it  is  always  as  the  diminutive  of  our 
own  species,  —  the  tiniest  bit  of  mortality,  it  is  true,  but  in  form 
and  feature  exactly  like  ourselves,  save  the  wing  imagination 
has  given  it;  and  this  is  an  addition  from  a  real  existence, 
a  butterfly's  wing,  —  the  precise  manner  in  which  Shakespeare 
has  constructed  the  equipage  of  Queen  Mab  :  — 

"  Her  wagon-spokes  made  of  long  spinners'  legs ; 
The  cover,  of  the  wings  of  grasshoppers ; 
The  traces,  of  the  smallest  spider's  web ; 
The  collars,  of  the  moonshine's  watery  beams: 
The  whip,  of  cricket's  bone;  the  lash,  of  film: 
Her  wagoner,  a  small  gray-coated  gnat, 
Her  chariot  an  empt}'  hazel-nut, 
Made  by  the  joiner  squirrel,  or  old  gnib, 
Time  out  of  mind  the  fairies'  coachmakers." 

Besides  the  two  classes  of  subjects  now  described,  the  derived 
and  invented,  there  is  another  between  the  two  in  which  the 
subject  is  neither  wholly  invented  nor  wholly  derived,  being 
nowhere  described,  but  only  hinted  at  by  the  ^mter  or  referred 
to  by  the  poet  or  historian,  as  that  of  "  The  Court  of  Titania," 
a  design  by  Allston,  and  "  The  Dinner  at  Page's  House,"  from 
the  Meny  Wives  of  Windsor,  by  Leslie,  —  the  first  a  composi- 
tion (existing  in  outline  only)  representing  a  wild  wood,  in  the 
centre  of  which  is  a  small  lake,  and  on  the  border  of  this  are 
a  dozen  or  more  fairies  hand  in  hand,  dancing  their  fantastic 
rounds,  whilst  other  fairies  and  infant  fays  are  threading  their 
way  in  the  most  sportive  manner  through  the  beautiful  foliage, 
until  they  are  finally  lost  in  almost  imperceptible  diminutive- 
ness  in  the  moonbeams  above.  On  the  right  of  the  canvas  are 
three  full-grown  fairies  grouped  as  the  Graces,  and  between 
them  and  the  dancers  is  Titania  herself,  reclining  on  a  bank 
of  flowers,  and  directly  over  her  head  two  other  fairies,  —  the 
ladies  of  the  bedchamber  we  may  suppose  them  to  be,  —  fan- 
ning her  gently  with  butterfly  wings ;  directly  behind  the  queen, 
and  a  little  elevated,  is  the  choir,  —  a  half-dozen  fairies  playing 
on  musical  instruments  made  of  flower-stems,  the  bluebell  serv- 
ing for  a  trumpet. 

Leslie's  composition  represents  an  antiquated  room  in  Page's 


INVENTION.  51 

house  at  Windsor,  in  which  is  a  table  extending  nearly  from  one 
end  to  the  other  (and  of  much  the  same  form  as  that  in  "The 
MaiTiage  at  Cana,"  by  Paul  Veronese),  covered  with  an  abundance 
of  good  things,  and  seated  at  the  three  sides,  in  characteristic  at- 
titudes, are  all  the  personages  that  figure  in  the  play,  —  Falstaff, 
Shallow,  Slender,  Sir  Hugh  Evans,  Dr.  Caius,  Mr.  Ford,  Mr. 
Page,  Anne  Page,  Nym,  Pistol,  and  Bardolph ;  Anne  Page  pledg- 
ing Slender  in  a  glass  of  w^ine  at  one  end  of  the  table,  while 
FalstafF,  at  the  other  end,  has  apparently  just  w^heeled  his  huge 
carcass  round  to  cast  a  glance  at  the  two  ladies,  Mrs.  Ford  and 
Mrs.  Page,  entering  the  room  through  an  open  do.orway  on  the 
left. 

Now  nothing  could  be  more  beautiful  than  Allston's  design, 
or  more  lifelike  and  natural  than  Leslie's,  and  one  would  be  in- 
clined, in  looking  at  it,  to  believe,  had  the  daguerreotype  been 
then  invented,  that  it  was  a  transcript  of  an  actual  feast,  made 
by  that  instrument ;  and  yet  both  of  them  are  almost  the  pro- 
duct of  the  imagination  of  the  artists,  —  the  first  scene  being  not 
at  all  described  by  the  poet,  but  only  hinted  by  him  in  the 
simple  declaration,  "  Titania  holds  her  court  to-night "  ;  the 
second,  where  in  the  play  Page  says,  "  Wife,  bid  these  gentle- 
men welcome.  —  We  have  a  hot  venison  pasty  to  dinner.  I 
hope  we  shall  drink  down  all  unkindness." 

The  remaining  topic  under  the  head  of  Invention  now  to  be 
considered  relates  to  the  2^oint  of  time  most  fitting  for  representa- 
tion, and  that,  says  Fuseli,  should  be  "  the  middle  moment,"  — 
a  moment,  that,  like  the  two  genii  that  attend  upon  Michael 
Angelo's  prophets  and  sibyls,  looks  back  to  the  past  and  points 
forward  to  the  future. 

The  meaning  of  this  may  be  well  illustrated  by  two  paintings 
of  the  same  subject,  "Judith  and  Holofernes,"  —  the  one  by 
Allori,  of  the  old  Italian  school ;  and  the  other  by  Mr.  West  (not 
Benjamin),  an  artist  of  good  ability,  who  pursued  his  profession 
during  many  years  in  Europe,  came  to  the  United  States,  passed 
some  years  in  Boston,  and  died  about  ten  years  since. 

In  Allori's  painting  (a  three  quarters'  length),  Judith,  with  a 
large  grisly  head  in  one  hand,  and  a  drawn  sword  in  the  other. 


52  __  INVENTION. 

is  represented  standing  and  looking  towards  the  spectator; 
the  maid  a  little  in  the  rear,  her  head  appearing  just  over  the 
shoulder  of  Judith.  The  face  of  Judith,  and  also  her  figure,  are 
very  beautiful,  and,  with  her  gorgeous  apparel,  well  fitted  to 
attract  and  win  the  admiration  of  Holofernes. 

In  West's  composition,  Judith,  in  rich  attire,  with  dishevelled 
hair  and  blood-dripping  sword,  and  the  half-concealed  head  of 
Holofernes,  is  seen  rushing  from  beneath  the  half-raised  curtains 
of  one  tent ;  the  maid  appearing  through  an  opening  in  another 
tent,  a  watchful  expectant  of  the  murderous  act.  It  will  thus 
be  seen  that  .the  moment  selected  by  the  two  artists  for  repre- 
sentation, and  the  manner  of  treating  the  subject,  are  entirely 
different. 

In  Allori's  composition  all  is  quiet  and  motionless.  The 
storm  has  ceased  its  fury,  and  all  has  settled  to  a  calm.  The 
moment  of  uncertainty  has  passed,  and  we  see  the  result. 

In  West's,  all  is  tempestuous.  The  thunder-cloud,  it  is  true, 
had  passed,  but  the  peal  rolls  fearfully  over  our  head,  and  w^e 
know  not  with  certainty  the  extent  of  the  destruction. 

In  the  one  the  drama,  is  still  going  on,  and  all  is  activity  and 
movement ;  in  the  other  the  drama  has  closed,  the  curtain  has 
dropped,  and  the  actors  stand  before  it  only  to  receive  the  ap- 
proval of  the  audience.  Mr.  West,  therefore,  in  point  of  time, 
has  done  better  than  Allori ;  but,  as  a  work  of  art,  his  jDroduc- 
tion,  although  very  creditable,  does  not  of  course  compare  with 
that  of  the  old  Italian  master. 

Subjects  like  these  are  not  fit  for  the  pencil ;  for  a  delicate 
female  with  a  blood-dripping  sword  in  one  hand  and  a  grisly 
head  in  the  other  presents  nothing  that  is  feminine,  amiable,  or 
agreeable,  although  in  this  case  a  remembrance  of  the  Scripture 
\  record  may  throw  around  the  event  the  halo  of  patriotism. 
\  But  if  the  artist  should  select  the  middle  moment,  the  mo- 
ment of  uncertainty,  for  representation,  so  also  is  he  required 
not  to  combine  in  the  same  composition  events  of  two  different 
periods,  although  it  has  been  done  by  Eaphael  himself  in  a 
painting  that  has  been  called  the  greatest  triumph  in  art,  "  The 
Transfiguration,"  uniting  the  transfiguration  of  Christ  on  Tabor 


INVENTION.  53 

with  the  prcseiitiition  of  the  maniac  boy  for  cure,  an  event  that 
did  not  take  phice  until  after  Christ's  descent  from  the  mount. 

The  object  Raphael  had  in  view  in  thus  doing  was  to  repre- 
sent the  divine  character  of  Christ,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
portray  him  as  the  reliever  of  human  misery.  He  is  thought  to 
have  been  successful,  but  it  is  an  offence  against  chronology  and 
a  precedent  hardly  to  be  imitated,  although  he  has,  in  one  view 
of  the  matter,  connected  the  events  and  made  them  one  by  the 
uplifted  hand  of  the  Apostle  in  the  centre  of  the  lower  group, 
who  appears  referring  the  father  of  the  child,  in  an  authorita- 
tive manner,  for  speedy  and  certain  cure,  to  his  Master  on  the 
mountain,  whose  altitude  at  once  connects  him  with  all  that 
passes  below. 


ESSAY    lY. 

COMPOSITION. 

COMPOSITION,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  Disposition, 
the  second  of  the  constituent  parts  of  art,  is,  like  inven- 
tion, a  purely  mental  operation,  for  until  the  assistance  of  design, 
or  drawing,  is  obtained,  nothing  can  be  expressed  upon  canvas. 

We  shall  consider  composition  under  two  heads  :  first,  as  it 
operates  by  picturesque  arrangements  to  please  the  eye,  and, 
second,  as  it  gives  expression  to  the  story  by  preserving  a  cor- 
respondence between  the  materials  employed  and  the  sentiment 
of  the  subject,  the  requirement  and  intention  being  in  all  cases 
to  make  every  part  of  composition  an  echo  to  the  sense.  And 
first  of  the  manner  of  so  shaping  and  arranging  the  materials  as 
to  render  the  canvas  agreeable  without  much  reference  to  the 
subject,  for  the^rs^  thing  to  he  aimed  at  in  painting  is  to  mahe  a 
pictu7^e. 

When  discoursing  on  beauty,  we  took  occasion  to  say  that  all 
the  varieties  of  objects,  as  far  as  their  contours  or  surfaces  are 
concerned,  emanate  from  a  straight  line  and  a  curve,  these  being, 
either  separate  or  combined,  the  boundaries  of  everything  that 
has  form,  but  that  a  difference  in  the  proportionate  arrangement 
of  straight  lines  and  cui-ves  entitled  such  form  or  object  to  be 
characterized  as  either  tigly  or  heautiful. 
V  It  was  further  stated  that  lines  running  in  one  direction  were 
acknowledged  to  be  more  beautiful  than  lines  running  in  another 
direction ;  that  parallel  lines  were  not  felt  to  be  so  beautiful  as 
rectangular ;  that  these  possessed  less  inherent  beauty  than 
diagonal  lines,  and  these  less  than  the  curved  ;  that  the  double 
curve  or  line  of  beauty  was  more  charming  than  the  preceding, 
and  the  spiral  or  line  of  grace  was  more  beautiful  even  than  that. 


COMPOSITION.  55 

These  remarks  had  reference  to  the  inherent  beanty  of  lines 
alone,  apart  from  form,  but  in  their  spirit  they  are  equally 
applicable  to  objects  of  which  such  lines  are  the  boundaries;  and 
the  truth  of  this  is  exhibited  in  the  added  beauty  of  a  finished, 
well-proportioned  column,  as  compared  with  that  column  when 
an  unformed  log  of  wood. 

The  early  Egyptian  statues  had  only  the  head  finished,  rest- 
ing upon  a  square  block,  or,  if  the  entire  figure  was  accom- 
plished, it  was  as  upright  and  unvaried  in  its  attitude,  with  its 
arms  pinioned  to  the  sides  and  its  legs  parallel  in  position,  as 
a  soldier  at  his  post ;  Egyptian  art  hardly  got  beyond  this, 
and  it  was  little  better  with  early  Greek  sculpture.  In  pro- 
cess of  time,  however,  when  Nature  began  to  assert  her  claim  to 
freedom,  and  her  arms  were  unpinioned  and  her  legs  unfettered, 
and,  to  ease  her  position,  this  one  a  little  advanced  and  that 
one  a  little  withdrawn,  the  head  slightly  averted  and  a  little  re- 
clined, and  the  arms  left  to  choose  their  place,  the  plastic  and 
hitherto  formless  marble  assumed  the  shape  and  imitated  the 
actions  of  its  creator  man,  and  that  so  much  more  gTacefully 
and  naturally  as  now  to  be  imitated  by  its  creator  in  return. 
What  in  the  infancy  of  art  was  but  an  awkward  lump  of  inert 
matter  is  now  in  form  a  human  being,  and  shows  us,  in  contrast 
with  its  early  condition,  how  a  change  in  the  direction  of  a  few 
lines  will  impart  to  form  a  power  to  charm  the  eye  through  the 
medium  of  the  picturesque,  though  it  may  but  imperfectly  impress 
the  understanding  and  the  heart  ;  and  it  exemplifies  the  differ- 
ence between  a  form  that  is  composed  and  one  that  is  not,  or,  in 
other  words,  the  meaning  in  art  of  the  temi  "  composition." 

These  remarks  are  made,  it  is  true,  in  reference  to  a  single 
object,  but  they  equally  apply  to  every  object  in  a  picture,  sep- 
arate or  combined,  a  single  fig-iire  or  a  group. 

And  now,  perhaps,  it  may  be  asked,  whence  proceeds  this 
power  to  charm  ]  It  is  furnished  by  Shakespeare  when,  speak- 
ing of  Cleopatra's  power  over  Antony,  he  says,  — 

*'  Nor  custom  stale  her  infinite  variety.^^ 

It  is  the  charming  power,  of  variety  which  directs  that,  in  a  com- 


56  COMPOSITION. 

position  of  any  magnitude,  there  should  be  brought  together 
persons  of  different  ages,  sexes,  conditions,  and  complexions,  and, 
if  the  actors  are  many,  that  they  shall  be  separated  into  groups, 
not  so  numerous  as  to  confuse,  nor  so  separated  that  the  eye 
in  passing  from  one  to  the  other  cannot  comprehend  the  whole 
at  once,  nor  so  resembling  each  other  in  form  and  size  as  to  ap- 
pear the  result  of  art  rather  than  of  nature  and  accident. 

This  variety,  however,  the  chief  element  of  beauty  in  compo- 
sition, must  be  restricted,  for,  when  carried  to  excess,  it  is  as 
pernicious  as  too  great  simplicity.  As  the  one  leads  to  intricacy, 
and  consequently  perplexes  and  fatigues  the  eye  ;  so  the  other 
leads  to  monotony  and  fails  to  excite  it,  which  is  equally  bad. 
There  must  be  variety  in  every  composition  to  constitute  it  a 
picture  and  to  excite  attention,  and  there  must  be  simplicity  for 
repose.  Wliat  the  proportionate  combination  of  variety  and 
simplicity  in  the  attitudes,  in  the  grouping,  in  the  forms  and 
quantities  of  the  lights  and  darks,  and  likewise  in  the  tones  and 
kind  of  colors  shall  be,  is  a  question  that  leads  us  next  to  a  con- 
sideration of  the  second  part  of  composition,  namely,  that  which 
regards  giving  expression  to  the  story  by  preserving  a  correspon- 
dence between  the  materials  employed  and  the  sentiment  of 
the  subject,  — for  every  representation  that  has  sentiment  at- 
tached to  it  requires  a  treatment  peculiarly  its  own  in  every 
constituent  part  of  the  art ;  all  must  be  an  echo  to  the  sense, 
each  requiring  to  be  played  as  it  were  on  a  different  ke}^,  as  the 
subject  of  it  is  exciting  or  quiet,  gay  or  grave,  intellectual  or 
the  opposite.  For  the  simplest  exemplification  of  these  requi- 
sites of  correct  composition,  we  have  renewedly  to  refer  to  the 
ancient  Greek  sculptures,  in  which  a  correspondence  between 
the  disposition  of  the  figure  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject 
will  always  be  found,  —  the  forms  of  virtue  and  of  wisdom 
being  less  varied  than  those  of  pleasure,  Minerva's  position 
being  perpendicular,  and  her  drapery  descending  in  long  un- 
mterrupted  Imes,  while  a  thousand  amorous  curves  embrace  the 
hmbs  of  Flora  and  Venus,  —  the  plain,  the  simple,  the  dignified, 
and  the  intellectual  being  the  sentiment  of  the  one ;  the  light, 
the  gav,  and  the  sensual  the  sentiment  of  the  other.     In  paint- 


COMPOSITION.  57 

ing,  doubtless,  this  same  idea  was  recognized  and  acted  upon, 
for  it  is  both  proper  and  natural,  and  no  law  of  nature  escaped 
the  observation  of  the  ancient  Greeks. 

There  are,  we  all  know,  established  principles  of  expression  in 
the  nature  of  man  by  which,  unconscious  of  their  influence,  his 
actions  are  controlled,  both  when  alone  and  when  in  connection 
with  others,  according  to  the  circumstances  which  surround  him 
and  engage  his  attention. 

When  men  act  under  circumstances  of  a  tranquil  nature,  or 
as  observant  of  a  fact  which  does  not  excite  to  warm  emotions, 
but  rather  produces  serious  and  solemn  sensations,  we  behold 
the  sentiment  appertaining  to  the  scene  display  itself  in  the 
parallelisms  of  their  positions  and  the  simj)le  and  slight  motion 
of  their  limbs ;  but  if  the  circumstances  under  which  they  act 
are  of  a  more  animated  character,  and  produce  mirthful  or  joy- 
ous sensations,  we  see  the  sentiment  appertaining  to  the  scene 
display  itself  in  the  more  varied  position  of  their  bodies,  a 
quicker  motion  of  their  limbs  ;  and  if  the  sentiment  which  ani- 
mates them  be  of  a  very  exciting  and  passionate  character,  the 
movements  become  more  quick  and  the  forms  more  angular- 
ized,  —  the  form  and  movements  of  the  body  thus  seeming 
to  mould  it  to  the  form  or  nature  of  the  inward  emotion. 

It  was  in  obedience  to  this  principle  that  Raphael  acted,  when 
in  his  cartoon  of  "  The  Delivery  of  the  Keys  to  St.  Peter,"  he 
employed,  as  did  the  sculptor  of  "  Minerva,"  the  influence  of 
simple  forms  to  express  and  j)roduce  solemnity,  the  sentiment  of 
the  characters  introduced,  and  the  natural  efi'ects  of  that  scene ; 
and  the  same  too  in  the  "  Ananias,"  among  the  figiu'es  distrib- 
uting and  receiving  alms,  whilst,  in  obedience  to  this  rule,  he 
has  resorted  to  the  adverse  system  of  angular  forms  and  abrupt 
contrasts  to  portray  distress  and  convulsion  in  the  dying  man, 
and  astonishment  and  dismay  in  the  figures  that  immediately 
suiTound  him. 

This,  it  would  seem,  must  have  been  the  riding  principle  in  the 
painting  of  the  Madonnas,  with  the  exception  of  three  very  prom- 
inent examples,  —  one  by  Rubens  at  Antwerp,  another  by  Paul 
Veronese  at  Venice,  and  a  third  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  some- 


58  COMPOSITION. 

where  in  England,  —  in  which,  by  the  employment  of  those  varied 
and  flowing  lines  so  becoming  gay  subjects,  and  so  characteristic 
of  joyous  and  animating  sensations,  the  artists  have  destroyed 
the  sentiment,  the  true  basis  of  such  paintings,  and  deprived 
them  of  the  solemnity  becoming  such  a  subject,  and  conse- 
quently they  do  not  raise  in  the  spectator  that  feeling  of  spirit- 
ual repose  which  naturally  results  from  the  simpler  arrangement 
of  Rai3hael,  Da  Vinci,  and  Correggio. 

In  "  The  Transfiguration "  Raphael  is  thought  to  have  lost 
sight  of  the  principle  in  the  great  excitement  and  contrast  among 
the  gToup  of  the  disciples,  although  it  adds  gTandeur  and  sim- 
plicity to  the  upper  part ;  and  the  same  objection  has  been  urged 
against  the  violent  contrasts  of  the  Apostles'  attitudes  in  "  The 
Last  Supper,"  by  Da  Vinci,  although  they  serve  as  a  foil  to  the 
dignified  attitude  of  the  Saviour  and  the  graceful  ]30sition  of  the 
beloved  John. 

The  same  criticism  has  been  applied  to  "  The  Evangelists  "  by 
Domenichino,  whose  angular  forms  appear  the  more  exceptionable 
when  compared  with  the  simpler  combinations  of  Michael  Angelo, 
upon  which  the  mind  undisturbedly  rests  until  the  sentiment 
and  impression  intended  is  perfected;  while  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  former  it  finds  no  repose,  and  consequently  derives 
no  satisfactory  and  sympathetic  emotion. 

/  The  works  of  no  artist  oftener  exhibit  a  correspondence  be- 
tween the  composition  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject  than 
those  of  Raphael,  and  this  is  nowhere  more  strikingly  exempli- 
fied than  in  the  two  lost  cartoons,  "  The  Resurrection  "  and 
"  The  Ascension."  The  tapestries  worked  after  them,  however, 
are  still  in  existence,  and  are  the  property  of  the  Romish  govern- 
ment, although  they  never  appear  among  the  engravings  of  what 
are  known  as  "  The  Cartoons."  We  have  referred  to  them  here 
to  introduce  the  powerful  description  of  them  by  Fuseli,  and 
because,  when  set  in  opposition  to  each  other,  they  illustrate  our 
subject,  and  show  most  distinctly  the  discriminating  power  of 

'  Raphael  in  their  contrasted  composition ;  that  of  "  The  Resur- 
rection "  deriving  its  interest  and  its  power  from  its  convulsive 

,   rapidity,  and  "  The  Ascension" /ro7?i  its  calmness  of  motion. 


COMPOSITION.  59. 

'"  In  '  The  Resurrection,'  the  Hero,  like  a  ball  of  fire,  shoots  up 
from  the  busting  cerements  and  scatters  astonishment  and  dis- 
may. What  apprehension  dared  not  suspect,  Avhat  fancy  could 
not  dream  of,  no  eye  had  ever  beheld,  and  no  tongue  ever 
uttered,  now  blazes  before  us.  The  passions  dart  in  rays  resist- 
less from  the  centre,  —  fear,  terror,  conviction,  wrestle  with  dig- 
nity and  courage  in  the  centurion,  convulse  brutality,  overwhelm 
violence,  enervate  resistance,  absorb  incredulity  in  the  guard. 
Tlie  whole  is  tempestuous." 

But  "  The  Ascension,"  how  different !  "No  longer  with  the  ra- 
pidity of  a  conqueror,  but  with  the  calm  serenity  of  triumphant 
power,  the  Hero  is  borne  up  in  splendor,  and  gradually  vanishes 
from  those  who,  by  repeated  visions,  had  been  taught  to  expect 
whatever  was  amazing.  Silent  and  composed,  with  eyes  more 
rapt  in  adoration  than  in  wonder,  they  follow  the  glorious  ema- 
nation, till,  addressed  by  the  white-robed  messengers  of  their 
departed  King,  they  relapse  to  the  feelings  of  men." 

We  trust  that  we  are  not  misunderstood  in  regard  to  this 
part  of  our  theme,  —  the  maintaining  a  correspondence  between 
the  composition  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject.  It  is  a 
requirement  the  importance  of  which  cannot  be  overrated. 
There  must  be,  as  before  stated,  in  every  representation  a  cer- 
tain variety  to  j)roduce  the  picturesque,  and  through  that,  in  the 
first  place,  to  awaken  attention.  What  shall  be  the  degi^ee  of 
it  beyond  this  is  what  we  have  been  endeavoring  to  demon- 
strate, and  from  the  whole  series  of  our  observations  results  this 
general  rule,  namely,  that  grave,  quiet,  and  solemn  scenes  re- 
quire less  of  the  varied  than  those  which  are  joyous,  mirthful, 
gay,  or  animated,  and  these  last  admit  of  fewer  contrasts  than 
those  which  are  passionate,  violent,  and  exciting,  —  the  senti- 
ment always  dictating  and  regulating  the  arrangements.  Where 
this  is  the  governing  principle  of  the  composition  it  will  always 
have  the  desired  and  full  effect.  Where  it  is  neglected,  it  may 
at  first  sight  please  the  eye  by  its  picturesqueness,  but  it  will 
fail  to  satisfy  the  mind  and  adequately  impress  the  heart. 

A  remarkable  instance  of  the  total  abandonment  of  the  prin- 
ciple now  under  consideration   is  presented  to  us  in  that  cele- 


60  COMPOSITION. 

brated  painting  by  Paul  Veronese,  called  "  The  Marriage  at 
Cana,"  now  the  property  of  the  French  government.  The  com- 
position is  a  very  large  one,  and  hovv^  truly  it  justifies  its  title 
you  will  the  better  determine,  when,  to  represent  the  humble 
nuptials  of  Cana,  you  see  what  1  —  "  at  a  table  in  an  open  court- 
yard in  Venice,  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  individuals  of  all 
nations  and  of  the  highest  rank  in  society,  the  grand  seignior, 
■the  Emperor  of  France,  Venetian  princes  and  princesses,  dukes 
and  duchesses,  lords  and  ladies,  painters,  poets,  and  musicians, 
and  at  the  remotest  part  of  the  table,  hardly  visible,  Christ, 
his  mother,  and  a  few  of  his  disciples."  It  is  true  that  by  search- 
ing you  may  find  them  out,  but  they  are  the  last  thing  to  be 
discovered  amid  the  grandeur  of  display  and  the  ornamentations 
of  the  feast. 

Now  the  artist  may  name  the  painting  what  he  pleases,  and 
the  ignorant  and  simple  beholder  may  believe  it,  but  if  there  be 
any  truth  in  what  was  stated  under  the  head  of  Invention, 
namely,  that  the  true  test  of  a  well-composed  picture  is  its 
making  the  same  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  spectator  that  is 
made  by  the  written  description  on  the  mind  of  the  reader,  then 
this  otherwise  amazing  production  is  a  prodigious  failure,  and  its 
name  or  title  an  insult  to  the  common  understanding ;  and  it 
fails  simply  from  the  neglect  of  that  principle  of  composition  which 
gives  so  much  point  and  effect  to  the  two  paintings  just  described, 
"  The  Resurrection  "  and  "  The  Ascension."  Had  Raphael  or  Da 
Vinci  attempted  a  representation  of  this  scene,  they  would  have 
addressed  themselves  to  the  heart  and  mind  as  well  as  to 
the  eye,  and  their  medium  of  reaching  them  would  have  been  the 
miracle,  and  the  expression  of  the  emotions  that  would  naturally 
have  been  awakened  by  the  first  supernatural  evidence  the 
Saviour  had  exhibited  in  support  of  the  true  nature  of  his  mis- 
sion. Christ  would  have  been  the  most  prominent  personage  in 
the  composition,  and  the  miracle  w^ould  have  been  known  in 
some  other  way  than  by  a  servant's  holding  up  the  red  skirt  of 
his  garment  to  show  that  the  w^ater  he  was  pouring  from  one 
vessel  into  another  was  of  that  color. 

What  Paul  Veronese  aimed  at  in  this  composition  was  SDlen- 


COMPOSITION.  61 

dor  of  cftect,  and  to  that  end  all  propriety  must  be  sacrificed. 
Raphael,  or  Da  Vinci,  or  any  true  artist,  would  have  sought  it  in 
another  direction,  would  have  derived  it  rather  from  the  glory 
that  encircled  the  head  of  the  Saviour,  certainly  not  caught  it, 
as  the  Venetian  did,  from  the  gilded  trappings  on  the  dresses  of 
his  nobles. 


ESSAY    Y. 

DESIGN,    OR  DRAWING. 

DESIGN,  or  outline,  is  undoubtedly  the  foundation  of  the 
art  of  painthig,  for  without  contours  it  is  impossible  to 
obtain  the  true  images  of  things  or  actions,  just  proportions, 
variety  of  form,  energies,  expression,  animation,  or  sentiment. 

Color,  apart  froln  outline,  is  only  an  unmeaning  glare.  De- 
sign, however,  is  perfectly  intelligible  by  itself,  and  a  simple 
outline  may  convey  ideas  of  size,  form,  distance,  perspective,  and 
give  the  impression  of  rest  or  action,  elegance  or  grandeur, 
apathy  or  feeling.  Indeed,  so  omnipotent  is  design,  that,  with 
slight  assistance  from  the  imagination,  unconsciously  bestowed, 
it  can  complete  a  picture. 

Although  design  includes  the  drawing  of  the  outlines  of  every 
object  in  a  picture,  we  shall  consider  it  only  in  its  relation  to 
the  human  figure,  and  under  two  distinct  heads,  one  of  which 
we  shall  call  correct  and  the  other  apjoropriate  design,  —  meaning 
by  the  first  the  drawing  of  the  human  figure  with  anatomical 
exactness,  and  by  the  second,  the  drawing  of  the  figure  when- 
ever it  is  introduced  into  a  picture  in  its  true  'physiognomic 
character  ;  and  to  this  last,  or  appropriate  design^  Ave  shall  first 
direct  our  attention. 

Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  practical  part  of  the  art 
need  not  be  told  that  when  once  a  painter  has  conceived  his  sub- 
ject, that  is,  formed  in  his  mind  an  idea  of  a  picture  (which  men- 
tal efi^ort  is  called  invention,  the  first  of  the  component  parts  of 
the  art),  he  generally  makes  a  sketch  of  it,  either  in  pencil  or  in 
colors,  always  small  and  imperfect.  He  then  takes  a  canvas  of 
the  size  he  intends  to  make  his  painting,  and,  having  assigned 
to  each  object  its  relative  situation,  attitude,  etc.  (called  composi- 


DESIGN,   OR  DRAWING.  63 

tiou,  the  second  of  the  component  parts  of  the  art),  he  next,  with 
a  pencil  or  crayon,  draws  the  outhnc  of  each  object  from  a  model  ; 
if  a  human  figure,  he  designs  or  draws  it  from  life,  or  from  a 
figiire  prepared  for  that  purpose.  When  the  picture  is  a  long 
time  in  being  done,  the  draper}^  is  transferred  to  what  is  called 
a  laj/-jignre  (a  figure  constructed  of  wood  and  cloth,  and  capable 
of  being  adjusted  to  any  attitude),  and  from  that  it  is  completed. 

This  is  the  usual  manner  of  most  artists.  If  the  subject  in 
hand  be  a  portrait,  the  model  is  copied  very  closely,  not  how- 
ever to  the  extent  required  of  his  painter  by  Cromwell,  "  with 
all  the  warts,  pimples,  freckles,  excrescences,  and  other  inciden- 
tal peculiarities,"  which  make  no  part  of  the  permanent  char- 
acteristic forai  of  the  individual ;  but  such  portions  only  are  de- 
lineated as  constitute  his  permanent  organization,  and  from  which 
he  is  known,  not  only  when  near,  but  likewise  at  a  distance. 

If  the  subject  on  which  the  artist  is  engaged  is  an  historical^ 
delineation,  and  the  model  be  the  real  actor  in  the  scene,  as  in 
the  painting  of  "  The  Death  of  Chatham,"  to  the  above  extent 
the  painter  is  true  to  nature ;  but  if  the  model  is  not  the  real 
actor,  it  ser^'es  the  artist  only  for  the  anatomy,  the  particular 
light  and  shade,  and  a  hint,  perhaps,  at  the  color  and  expression. 
In  no  instance  is  the  model  for  any  of  the  figures  in  an  historical 
delineation  (save  where  it  is  the  real  actor  in  the  scene)  to  be 
copied,  although  such  was  almost  always  the  case  with  the  Vene- 
tian, Dutch,  and  Flemish  masters,  with  whom  an  historical  2'>aint- 
ing  is  generally  a  portrait  of  themselves.  Whether  the  scene  is 
laid  in  Holland  or  Palestine  ;  whether  they  portray  a  mcny-mak- 
ing.  a  beer-shop,  a  pathetic  incident  in  the  life  of  the  Saviour, 
or  some  other  event  from  the  Sacred  Record,  the  actors,  with 
few  exceptions,  are  their  own  countrymen,  undisguised  even 
by  appropriate  costume. 

Now,  this  is  all  wi-ong ;  and  as  the  practice  likewise  charac- 
terizes modern  art,  and  many  exemplifications  of  it  are  found 
everywhere,  passing  unnoticed,  notwithstanding  the  enormous 
incorrectness  of  the  thing,  we  shall  devote  to  an  examination, 
exposure,  and  condemnation  of  the  practice  more  space  than  we 
usually  devote  to  a  single  topic. 


64  DESIGN^   OE  DRAWING. 

There  is  a  painting  by  Teniers  called  "  The  Rich  Man  and 
Lazarus,"  the  materials  of  which  are  a  somewhat  richly  clad 
gentleman  and  his  wife  at  dinner,  attended  by  one  white  and  one 
black  servant,  and  these,  as  is  the  case  in  almost  all  Flemish 
pictures,  are  accompanied  by  a  little  Charles-the-First  spaniel. 
In  the  door-way  is  a  miserable-looking  old  fellow,  hooted  and 
pelted  by  some  boys,  whom  an  old  woman,  with  an  uj)lifted 
broomstick,  is  endeavoring  to  drive  away,  while  a  hungiy- 
looking  dog  is  tenderly  licking  the  sores,  disgustingly  displayed 
(after  the  fashion  of  the  naturalistic  school)  on  the  naked 
limbs  of  the  decrepit  beggar. 

Now  this  painting,  like  all  by  that  master,  was  doubtless 
charming  to  the  eye  for  its  truth  to  nature,  but  it  is  not  true  to 
history  ;  for  it  is  nothing  more  than  just  such  a  scene  as  might 
be  witnessed,  we  suppose,  any  day,  in  the  country  of  the  artist,  — 
for  not  only  are  all  the  actors,  except  the  African,  Dutch  in  form 
and  feature,  but  they  are  also  clad  in  the  costume  of  the  country. 
The  room  and  furniture  are  of  that  character,  and,  not  to  miss 
the  locality,  a  landscape  representing  a  scene  in  Holland  is 
hanging  on  the  walls.  This  therefore,  we  conclude,  is  neither 
a  probable  representation  of  an  historic  fact,  nor  does  it  illustrate 
appropriate  design. 

In  the  National  Gallery  of  England  is  a  painting  by  Rem- 
brandt, called  "  Christ  Scourged,"  and  it  doubtless  is  enchant- 
ing to  the  eye,  for  it  is  by  the  creator  of  that  magic  combination 
of  color  with  chiaro-oscuro  which  was  never  before,  and  surely 
never  since  attained ;  but  the  interest  in  it  is  almost  annihilated 
when  we  see  represented  as  actors  in  the  scene,  not  the  ancient 
reviling,  disbelieving  Jew,  but  the  tender  and  converted  Dutch- 
man. Well,  it  is  a  downright  libel  upon  his  countrymen,  and  the 
painter  has  redeemed  himself  a  little  only  by  making  these  same 
Dutchmen  the  first  humble  worshippers  at  the  manger  in  Betli- 
lehem,  but  with  as  little  a^ypropriateness  of  design,  for  these 
Dutchmen  were  not  the  star-led  shepherds  of  the  Eastern  plains. 

This  same  locality,  likewise,  obtained  with  Rubens,  who 
generally  took  his  figures  from  the  people  about  him,  as  did  most 
of  the  Lombard  and  Venetian  schools  ;  but  the  latter,  says  Fuseli, 


DESIGN,   OR   DRAWING.  05 

were  not  so  gross  in  this  respect  as  Rubens,  for  they  introduced 
Venetian  gentlemen  into  their  pictures,  but  he  the  boors  of  his 
own  district,  and  called  them  patriarchs  and  prophets. 

There  are  two  well-know^l  paintings  of  "  The  Finding  of  Moses  " : 
the  one  by  Paul  Veronese,  who  always  introduced  —  and  in  a 
very  elegant  way  —  his  own  countr^Tiien  into  his  pictures  ;  and 
the  other  by  Poussin,  a  student  of  the  antique,  who  ran  into 
the  other  extreme  of  over-idealizing. 

In  the  first  the  different  personages  are  all  Italians,  in  the 
second  they  are  all  Greeks.  Xow,  although  those  by  Poussin  are 
well  proportioned  and  anatomically  perfect,  and  thus  furnish  an 
example  of  correct  design,  j^et  they  are  not  appropriately  drawn 
any  more  than  those  by  Veronese  ;  for  if  the  latter  has  eiTed 
by  the  introduction  of  commonplace  Italian  into  his  painting, 
instead  of  the  Egyptian,  the  former  has  equally  erred  by  the 
introduction  of  Grecian  form  and  featm-e ;  and  however  appro- 
priate such  figures  might  be  in  his  classic  and  mythological 
delineations,  or  in  a  dramatic  display  of  passion  and  sentiment 
(that  like  "  The  Burning  of  the  Borgo,"  or  any  other  repre- 
sentation of  a  noctm-nal  conflagTation,  requires  no  locality), 
they  are  out  of  place  in  an  historic  EgjqDtian  one. 

These  pictures  may  truly  represent  the  finding  of  a  child  in 
some  bulrushes,  but  not  of  the  child  Moses  as  recorded  in  the 
Scriptures. 

But  this  inappropriateness  of  design,  this  introduction  of 
portraiture  w^here,  under  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  the 
figures  should  be  in  a  degi*ee  ideal,  —  as  we  shall  presently 
demonstrate,  —  is  not  confined  to  the  old  masters. 

There  was  exhibited  in  England  in  1829,  and  in  this  country 
some  years  subsequent,  a  painting  by  Haydon,  the  English  artist, 
called  "  The  Entering  of  Christ  into  Jei-usalcm,"  among  the 
fig^ires  in  which  composition  were  Voltaire,  Hume,  and  other 
reported  infidels,  but  introduced  with  little  propriety  in  the 
representation  of  an  event  that  occurred  nearly  two  thousand 
years  before  they  were  born. 

It  may  have  been  that  Haydon  intended  it  as  an  allegoric  de- 
lineation of  the  progi'ess  of  Christianity  in  spite  of  infidel  opposi- 
5 


66  DESIGN,   OR  DRAWING. 

tion.  If  so,  the  conceit  was  not  a  bad  one,  althougn  it  marred 
the  unity  of  the  design.  The  mistake  was  in  calUng  it  "  The 
Entering  of  Christ  into  Jerusalem,"  and  exhibiting  it  as  such,  — 
although  there  were  wonderful  parts  about  it,  as  about  all  the 
paintings  already  described,  that  make  them  worth  seeing  as 
works  of  art. 

There  was  another  painting,  of  still  greater  celebrity,  exhibited 
in  the  United  States  still  later,  — "  Eating  the  Forbidden 
Fruit,"  by  Dubeuf,  —  the  Adam  in  which  any  one  acquainted 
with  national  physiognomy  would  at  once  pronounce  a  French- 
man, and  the  Eve  an  Italian,  even  if  he  had  not  been  told  that  she 
was  a  good  copy  from  a  Yenus  by  Titian,  whose  female  figures 
Avere  seldom  anything  more  than  the  fair,  rich,  melting  beauties 
of  his  own  luxurious  city ;  and  yet  that  painting  was  vastly 
admired  for  portraying,  with  gTcat  probability  of  truth,  the  mis- 
doings of  our  first  parents,  —  with  how  much  justice  those  can 
tell  who  believe  that  the  father  of  mankind  was  not  a  native  of 
France,  nor  the  mother  of  om'  race  a  Venetian  flirt. 

Even  West,  with  all  his  correctness  of  draiving,  was  accustomed 
to  introduce  among  the  personages  in  his  Scriptural  delinea- 
tions his  own  daughters,  and  the  old  Jews  he  picked  up  in  the 
streets  of  London,  unchanged  in  everything  but  costume,  —  the 
least  important,  perhaps,  of  all  adaptations. 

Nor  is  it  in  painting  alone  that  Ave  find  this  offence  against 
propriety.  The  once  celebrated  group,  by  the  Scotch  sculptor 
Tom,  of  "  Tam  O'Shanter,"  and  that  of  "  Uncle  Toby  and  the 
Widow  Wadman,"  at  the  time  of  their  first  exhibition,  founded 
a  part  of  their  claim  to  the  public  attention  on  the  declared  facts 
that  almost  every  one  of  the  figures  in  those  compositions  or 
groups  were  portraits  of  individuals  living  at  the  time  they  were 
executed  either  in  New  York  City  or  the  highlands  of  Scot- 
land ;  and  how  much  the  former  resembled  the  personages  of 
Burns,  or  the  bright-eyed  lady  of  New  York  the  widow  with 
"  something  in  my  eye.  Uncle  Toby,"  probably  could  be  well 
answered  by  the  sculptors,  if  they  knew  anything  about  it. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  says  that  John  de  Bologna,  the  cele- 
brated sculptor,  after  he  had  finished  the  well-known  group  of 


DESIGN,   OR  DRAWING.  67 

young  men  holding  in  their  arms  some  young  women,  got  his 
friends  together  to  know  what  name  he  should  give  it ;  and  in 
a  true  democratic  manner  it  was  decided,  by  something  of  a 
majority,  to  name  it  "  The  Rape  of  the  Sabine  Women  "  ;  and 
this  is  the  celebrated  group  which  now  stands  in  front  of  a 
palace  in  Florence,  and  is  so  much  admired  for  its  historical 
truthfulness  by  those  who  do  not  know  that  they  are  all  tran- 
scripts of  members  of  the  artist's  family,  —  a  fact  Avhich,  when 
known,  is  fatal  to  that  supposition  or  belief. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  at  all  that  the  foregoing  subjects  of 
our  criticism  may  be  very  valuable  as  w^orks  of  art,  as  exhibi- 
tions of  passion  and  sentiment,  as  dramatic  representations  of 
feelings  and  emotions  that  are  universal,  and  may  be  as  well 
imaged  forth  in  the  personages  of  one  age  as  another ;  that 
which  is  especially  objected  to  is  their  deficiency  as  representa- 
tions of  "  historical  facts,"  their  pretending  to  portray  something 
which  the}^  do  not  delineate. 

Now  an  artist  is  to  be  in  some  degree  judged  by  his  declared 
intentions  ;  and,  thus  judged,  the  foregoing  productions  do  not 
meet  one  of  the  least  considered,  but  yet  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant, demands  of  art. 

We  might  have  multiplied  illustrations  to  the  same  effect  to 
an  indefinite  extent ;  for  it  is  undeniable  that  very  many  of 
the  productions  both  of  the  pencil  and  the  chisel  are,  historically 
considered,  downright  impositions,  —  in  one  important  aspect  of 
the  matter,  falsehoods;  and  if  the  several  personages  in  such 
compositions  could  speak,  they  would  confirm  the  statement. 
"  I  am  not  a  Jew,  but  a  Dutchman,"  would  be  the  declaration 
of  one  ;  "  not  an  Asiatic,  but  a  Frenchman,"  the  response  of 
another  ;  "  not  an  Egyptian,  but  a  Greek,"  the  reply  of  a  third ; 
"  not  Cleopatra,  but  Miss  West  "  ;  "  not  Desdemona,  but  Miss 
Roe "  ;  not  Portia,  but  Miss  Doe  " ;  "  not  Othello,  but  Jim 
Crow  "  ;  "  not  Shylock,  but  an  old  London  clothesman,"  and  so 
on.  These,  and  a  thousand  similar  ones,  would  be  the  responses 
of  the  much  misrepresented  canvas.  But  such  compositions  are 
to  be  treated  like  pirates  who  sail  under  false  colors,  —  sub- 
jected to  the  right  of  search,  and  condemned  without  mercy. 


68  DESIGN,    OR   DRAWING. 

In  condemning  the  guilty,  however,  let  us  not  do  mjustice  to 
the  innocent,  for  if  there  be  numberless  instances  of  inappropri- 
ateness  of  design,  there  are  also  many  that  are  not  open  to  this 
objection.  The  truth  is  sometimes  t®ld  in  historical  delinea- 
tions, even  where  the  actors  in  the  scene  do  not  serve  for  the 
model ;  and  its  full  meaning  and  power  was  shown  by  Mr.  Allston 
one  day,  when,  being  asked  if  the  w^ell-known  Jews'  heads  painted 
by  him  and  belonging  to  the  Boston  Athenseum  were  copied 
from  life  to  be  introduced  into  his  much  misunderstood  and  still 
unfinished  painting  of  "  Belshazzar's  Feast,"  "  0  no,"  was  his 
reply,  —  "  0  no.  Those  are  portraits  of  Polish  Jews,  and  not 
the  Jews  of  the  Babylonish  period.  They  must  first  be  ideal- 
ized, made  more  to  resemble  the  Hebrew^s  of  Asiatic  origin."  The 
picture  of  them,  slight  as  the  required  variation  may  have  been, 
existed  in  his  own  mind,  but  it  had  been  drawn  there  after 
a  minute  examination  of  their  physiognomic  character.  The 
original  heads  were  regarded  as  starting-points,  as  models  to 
be  submitted  to  the  required  modifications. 

The  original  of  the  Madonna  called  ''  La  Jardiniere,"  by 
Eaphael,  was  a  gardening  girl  near  Rome,  and  several  of  his 
his  Madonnas  were  painted  from  his  favorite  Fornarina ;  but 
they  were  not  transcripts,  copies,  the  model  in  its  exact  shape 
transferred  to  the  canvas,  as  was  the  custom  with  the  Dutch 
and  Venetians,  but  imitations  of  the  model,  or,  in  other  words, 
its  idealism. 

Had  Raphael,  however,  simply  copied  the  Fornarina  or  the 
gardening  girl,  and  called  her  the  mother  of  Christ,  we,  not 
knowing  the  circumstance,  might  have  admired  the  painting 
as  a  probable  representation  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  yet  the 
imposition  would  have  been  no  less  real. 

But  it  may  be  said,  that,  whether  it  be  an  exact  copy  or  por- 
trait of  the  model  or  in  some  measure  the  product  of  the  paint- 
er's imagination,  in  either  case  it  may  not  at  all  resemble  the 
mother  of  Christ ;  for  how,  it  may  be  asked,  could  Raphael  or 
any  other  artist  form  a  right  conception  of  her  personal  appear- 
ance 1 

The  answer  is  not  difficult,  and  in  its  spirit  applies  to  all 


DESIGN,    OR    DRAWING.  69 

historical  delineations  the  actors  in  which  cannot  be  procured 
for  the  model.  The  painter's  object  was  to  portray  a  lyrohahle 
resemblance  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  — as  of  Da  Vinci,  in  "The 
Last  Supper,"  a  probable  delineation  of  the  sacramental  feast. 
It  became  Kapliael,  therefore,  to  present  us  with  a  figure  whos3 
form  and  fiice  should  exhibit  at  least  a  Jewish,  not  an  Italian  or 
a  Greek  mother,  and  whose  expression  should  indicate  not  onl}'- 
the  maternal  graces  and  affections  common  to  the  race,  but  also 
sentiments  peculiarly  becoming  to  the  mother  of  Christ. 

How  far  he  has  been  successful  in  accomplishing  all  this  is 
another  question  ;  at  any  rate,  we  should  expect  to  find  these 
qualifications  or  believe  that  they  were  exhibited  in  an  ideal, 
rather  than  in  a  living  person,  and  that  an  Italian ;  a  supposi- 
tion is  certainly  entitled  to  more  confidence  than  an  acknowl- 
edged falsehood. 

The  head  of  the  mother  in  the  "  Madonna  della  Seggiola  "  (the 
Madonna  of  the  Chair),  is  not  Jewish  in  its  physiognomy,  and  is, 
as  far  as  that  goes,  the  most  objectionable  of  any  of  Raphael's 
paintings  of  her.  It  very  much  resembles  that  of  the  Venus  de 
Medici.  .•>.  It  certainly  is  Greek  in  its  structure. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  an  exact  representation  of  Joseph 
and  his  family  would  be  the  most  truly  historic  delineation, 
and  so  also  an  exact  transcript  of  ''  The  Last  Supper  "  or  any 
other  recorded  subject ;  and,  of  the  many  productions  pretend- 
ing to  portray  historical  events,  those  must  be  the  most  correct 
and  interesting  that  approach  nearest  the  realitj'.  It  would 
seem  to  demand  no  argument  to  support  this  position.  It  is 
requiring  no  more  of  the  painter  of  history  than  of  the  writer 
of  it,  which  surely  is  not  unreasonable. 

But  perhaps  it  will  be  said  that  the  mass  of  historical  paint- 
ings are  intended  only  to  present  the  sentiment  of  the  scene, 
and  not  to  be  an  actual  transcript  of  all  the  circumstances  that 
combine  to  make  the  real  fact ;  the  object  being  simply  to  ade- 
quately impress  the  imagination,  as  in  any  representation  of 
the  crucifixion,  or  the  nativity,  or  the  Madonna,  and  that  so 
far  they  are  sufficient  and  historically  true. 

Well,  granting  for  the   moment  that  this  is  the  only  aim  of 


70  DESIGN,   OR   DEAWING. 

the  painter,  would  not  the  sentiment  be  better  exhibited  and 
the  imagination  more  adequately  impressed  by  a  transcript  of 
the  reality^  or  a  probable  delineation  of  it,  than  where  the  repre- 
sentation carries  internal  evidence  of  something  being  substi- 
tuted entirely  different  *?  Certainly.  Therefore,  acknowledged 
portraiture,  except  of  the  original  actors,  is  out  of  place,  and  not 
admissible  in  the  endeavor  to  portray  only  the  sentiment  of  an 
historic  subject,  because  it  is  fatal  to  the  imagination,  —  that  is, 
it  destroys  the  air  of  probability,  and  consequently  the  impres- 
sion intended  to  be  made  upon  the  imagination. 

It  is  with  historical  delineations,  the  actors  in  which  have  not 
been  the  painter's  models,  as  with  the  drama.  So  long  as  the 
actor  identifies  himself  with  the  character  he  personates,  — that 
is,  so  long  as  we  are  possessed  with  the  idea  that  it  is  Lear,  or 
Hamlet,  or  Desdemona,  or  Ophelia  that  is  before  us,  and  not 
Garrick,  or  Cook,  or  Siddons,  or  Kemble,  or  Booth,  —  so  long  do 
we  feel  the  full  force  of  the  sentiments  they  utter ;  but  just  so 
far  as  the  actors  themselves  are  visible,  just  so  much  less  forci- 
ble is  the  impression  made  upon  the  imagination ;  and  it  is  the 
power  thus  to  impress  an  audience  that  constitutes  geilius,  and 
has  made  the  renown  and  glory  of  the  great  personators  of  the 
drama. 

There  is  a  greater  difficulty  in  painting  than  in  the  drama  in 
producing  a  full  impression,  —  that  the  former  is  deprived  of  the 
medium  of  language,  the  appeal  being  made  to  the  mind  only 
through  the  eye.  In  dramatic  exhibitions  there  is  another  me- 
dium, the  ear. 

We  have  been  thus  particular  on  this  part  of  our  subject  be- 
cause of  its  importance  to  a  clear  comprehension  of  the  intent 
and  power  of  the  art,  and  to  guard  the  uninitiated  from  impo- 
sition, quackery,  and  pretence.  The  rule  to  be  deduced  from 
the  whole  is  this  :  if  the  painting  claim  to  be  a  pure  historic 
delineation,  and  the  actors  in  the  scene  be  of  a  particular  na- 
tion or  cast,  or  be  characterized  by  particular  physiognomy, 
figure,  color,  or  any  other  permanent  peculiarity,  whether  it  is 
the  reality  or  only  the  sentiment  of  the  scene  that  is  to  be  de- 
lineated, they  must  be  so  represented  and  with  all  the  circum- 


DESIGN,   OR  DRAWING.  71 

stances  that  unequivocally  distinguish  that  event  from  every 
other ;  only  when  these  requisites  are  complied  with  can  it 
be  called  an  historical  picture  and  the  drawing  appropriate. 

If  it  be  a  dramatic  exhibition  of  passion,  feeling,  character, 
that  is  universal  and  requires  no  local  delineation,  as  "  The 
Burning  of  the  Borgo,"  call  it  a  dramatic  painting  ;  if  an  ideal 
abstraction  of  mind,  as  the  epic  series  of  Michael  Angelo,  so  let 
it  be  designated,  and  thus  call  things  by  their  right  names. 
Do  not  let  us  paint  a  portrait  of  Shakespeare  and  name  it  Sopho- 
cles or  Euripides,  or  a  Dutch  family  and  call  it  the  rich  man 
and  Lazarus,  or  a  feast  in  Venice  and  call  it  the  humble 
nuptials  at  Cana.  If  we  cannot  procm-e  the  original  materials 
for  the  models  of  the  different  objects  in  our  compositions,  let 
us  approach  as  near  as  possible  to  the  reality  by  imagining 
them,  and  not  substitute  something  that  we  know  to  be  entirely 
different,  and  thus  be  giiilty  of  a  fraud  and*a  falsehood. 

A  few  words  now  of  connect  design,  by  which,  as  stated  in  the 
commencement  of  this  essay,  is  meant  "  the  drawing  of  the 
human  figure  with  anatomical  exactness,"  and  in  the  adaptation 
of  it  to  express  appropriate  action  and  gesture. 

The  drawing  of  the  human  figure  with  anatomical  exactness 
and  just  proportions,  and  the  adaptation  of  it  to  express  ap- 
propriate actions  and  gestures,  has  been  well  called  one  of  the 
gi-eatest  difficulties  of  the  art,  and  imperfect  design  one  of  the 
greatest  defects  of  modern  draughtsmen  ;  nor  is  there  any  promise 
of  an  abatement  of  the  defect,  as  artists  of  the  present  day  are 
not  willing  to  encounter  the  labor  of  years  that  alone  enabled 
such  men  as  ^Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  and  others  to  accom- 
plish with  facility  that  which  but  few  can  now  do  at  all.  Too 
many,  it  is  supposed,  are  willing  to  perform  that  by  the  camera 
w^hich  the  best  of  the  old  masters  could  do  as  well  or  better 
by  the  hand.  When  that  instrument  is  the  servant  of  the  art, 
it  may  be  made  to  render  valuable  assistance ;  but  if  it  is  to 
be  a  substitute  for  brains  and  energy,  the  effect  eventually  must 
be  to  degrade  the  professor  and  destroy  the  art. 

There  was  but  small  advance  made  in  this  branch  of  study 
until  near  the  commencement  of  the  fourteenth  centurv,  when 


72  DESIGN,    OR   DRAWING. 

the  true  style  of  drawing,  attached  to  essential  form,  propor- 
tionate characteristic  discrimination,  and  expressive  propriety, 
was  begun  by  Masaccio  and  his  contemporaries,  and  finally  com- 
pleted by  Da  Vinci,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Raphael.  The  Ca- 
racci  and  others  simply  continued  it. 

Although  Michael  Angelo  did  not  always  adapt  the  character 
to  the  subject,  yet,  for  the  characters  he  has  chosen,  his  figures 
as  to  the  drawing  are  generally  allowed  to  be  executed  with 
more  spirit,  truth,  and  science  than  anything  that  has  appeared 
since  the  resurrection  of  art.  The  outlines  of  the  muscles  in 
many  of  his  figures  are  by  some  thought  to  be  unnaturally 
exaggerated.  But  it  should  be  remembered  that  he  did  not  in- 
tend, nor  did  the  epic  character  of  his  subject  require  him,  in 
his  delineations,  to  be  limited  by  the  boundaries  of  ordinary 
existences.  His  figures  are  very  much  expanded,  it  is  true,  yet 
they  are  not  huge  like  the  elephant,  but  grand  and  majestic 
like  the  lion  and  the  tiger. 

Da  Vinci's  style  of  drawing  is  not  so  great  as  that  of  Michael 
Angelo  ;  yet  it  exhibits  great  truth,  energy,  and  expression.  It 
is,  however,  much  exaggerated  at  times,  as  in  "  The  Last  Supper," 
some  of  the  figures  approaching,  but  never  reaching,  caricature. 

Although  Raphael  was  not  always  great,  like  Michael  Angelo, 
yet  he  was  frequently  so,  and  always  excellent.  In  design, 
his  characteristic  quality  was  the  expressive.  The  figure  of 
the  female  carrying  water  in  the  "Incendio  del  Borgo"  has 
been  considered  wonderful  for  the  expressive  energy  of  the  action, 
and  his  best-drawn  naked  figure  the  young  man  hanging  from 
the  wall  in  the  same  fresco,  and  the  Prudence  —  in  the  Juris- 
prudence— the  most  beautiful  and  correctly  drawn  of  his  female 
figures.  For  divine  expression,  that  which  looks  beyond  the 
present  to  the  future,  nothing  has  ever  surpassed  that  which 
characterizes  the  Angel  Raphael,  an  engraving  of  which  makes 
one  of  the  illustrations  of  this  volume. 

Correggio's  design  has  not  been  much  criticised  ;  there  is 
certainly  great  purity  and  beauty  in  most  of  his  female  charac- 
ters, and  in  those  and  every  other  form  a  style  peculiarly  his 
own,  and  always  refined  and  attractive. 


DESIGN,   OR  DRAWING.  73 

Titian  has  the  reputation  of  not  being  a  good  draughtsman,  — 
at  least,  that  was  the  reported  opinion  of  Michael  Angelo,  and 
he  may  have  thought  so,  comparing  him  with  his  own  grand 
style  in  the  Sistine  Chapel.  Perfection  in  this  branch  of  the  art, 
correct  design,  is  oftener  found  in  sculpture  than  in  painting. 
It  is  to  painting  that  we  are  to  look  for  the  most  expressive 
representations,  but  to  sculpture  —  the  ancient  Greek  —  for  the 
most  coiTect  and  beautiful  delineation,  of  the  human  form. 

They  are  the  classics  in  art,  as  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers 
are  in  letters ;  and  as  a  pure  and  correct  taste  in  writing  is 
best  acquired  by  the  study  of  the  one,  so  a  knowledge  of  cor- 
rect design  most  certainly  results  from  the  study  of  the  other. 
They  are,  therefore,  in  all  academies  of  design,  made  the  basis 
of  artistic  education. 

The  ancient  sculptures  are  better,  on  many  accounts,  than 
ordinary  living  models,  for  we  there  behold  nature  unadul- 
terated by  human  institutions  and  undisguised  by  fashion. 

It  is  to  the  influence  of  these  marbles,  together  with  an  in- 
tense study  of  practical  anatomy,  that  we  are  to  trace  the  supe- 
riority of  ]\Iiehael  Angelo's  and  Raphael's  designs.  The  Greeks 
in  this  were  their  masters. 

But  although  the  ancient  marbles,  like  the  ancient  writers, 
are  to  be  studied  for  sti/le,  they  are  not,  any  more  than  the  latter, 
to  be  copied,  as  they  w^ere  by  Poussin,  in  "  The  Finding  of 
Moses,"  and  by  the  once  celebrated  David  (the  head  of  the  French 
school  under  the  Empire)  and  his  followers  in  almost  all  of  their 
productions,  —  there  being,  however,  this  vast  diff'erence  to  be 
noted  between  Poussin's  adoptions  and  theirs,  namely,  that 
Poussin  has  given  to  his  Grecian  forms  the  expressions  and 
attitudes  of  nature.  David  and  his  followers  have  ingrafted 
on  them  French  peculiarities  and  grimaces. 

As  previously  stated,  the  old  Venetian,  Dutch,  and  Flemish 
masters  totally  neglected  to  avail  themselves  of  the  study  of 
the  ancient  sculptures  to  correct  imperfect  nature,  but  copied 
the  men  and  women  of  their  country  as  they  found  them ;  and 
they,  like  Poussin,  differed  from  the  later  French  artists,  in  that 
they  gave  to  their  figures  natural  expressions  and  attitudes. 


74  DESIGN,   OR  DEAWING. 

Now  neither  the  Venetians,  the  Dutch,  the  Flemings,  Poussin, 
nor  David  and  his  followers  were  right.  Poussin  was  in  all 
save  his  mythological  delineations  too  ideal,  the  others  not 
enough  so;  the  true  course  lay  between  the  ideality  of  the 
one  and  the  actuality  of  the  other,  and  it  was  understood  by 
Raphael,  when  he  invested  "The  Gardening  Girl"  and  "The 
Fornarina"  with  so  much  divine  beauty,  and  also  by  Allston, 
when  he  embodied  that  most  charming  of  all  his  delineations, 
"The  Beatrice"  of  Dante,  and  gave  a  visible  form  to  his  sub- 
lime conception  of  "  The  Prophet  Jeremiah." 


Titian's  model  for  light  and  shade. 


ESSAY    VI. 

CHIARO-OSCURO. 

CHIARO-OSCURO  is  the  technic  term  employed  to  desig- 
nate the  mysterious  effects  of  Hght  and  dark  in  a  picture. 
In  the  order  of  enumeration  it  is  the  fourth  of  the  constitu- 
ent parts  of  the  art,  and  the  second  of  its  mechanical  processes. 

If  design,  or  drawing,  is  the  giver  of  form,  chiaro-oscuro  is 
the  creator  of  space  and  hody.  By  it  entire  figures  are  de- 
tached from  the  background,  and  made  to  recede  and  advance 
according  to  their  several  situations  and  distances ;  nor  only  so, 
but  by  a  certain  required  arrangement  and  proportioning  of  the 
lights  and  darks,  the  artist  in  this,  as  in  composition  and  color, 
is  enabled  to  give  the  most  pleasing  effect  to  the  eye,  assist 
the  sentiment,  and  impress  the  imagination. 

These  are  some  of  the  offices  of  light  and  dark,  or  chiaro- 
oscuro,  which  we  shall  presently  explain  and  illustrate  ;  but  as  a 
fitting  introduction  and  key  to  the  philosophy  of  chiaro-oscuro 
it  becomes  necessary  to  say  a  few  words  of  the  varied  influences 
of  light  and  darkness  in  the  natural  world. 

In  general  terms,  it  is  characteristic  of  light  to  exhilarate  and 
of  darkness  to  depress. 

There  is  a  pensiveness  comes  over  most  of  us  w^ith  the  shades 
of  evening,  that  deepens  into  melancholy 

"  When  Night,  like  to  a  widow  in  her  weeds, 
Among  the  ghmmering  tapers  silent  sits  " ; 

but  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  a  fulness  of  the  heart,  comes  with 
the  light  of  the  morning.  In  the  one  case  it  is  analogous  to 
that  feeling  of  desolation  and  despair  we  all  experience 

"  When  the  sear  and  yellow  leaf 
Comes  down  in  autumn"; 


76  CHIAEO-OSCURO. 

in  the  other,  to  that  emotion  of  hope  and  renewed  Ufe  that 
brightens  the  face  of  universal  nature 

"  When  Spring,  in  all  her  maiden  pride, 
Comes  forth  to  be  the  Summer's  bride." 

Nor  is  it  without  reason  that  we  are  thus  affected  by  these 
natural  phenomena  ;  for  while  all  that  is  gladsome  and  joyous  in 
nature  is  intimately  associated  with  light,  all  that  is  grave,  im- 
pressive, awful,  mysterious,  dreadful,  and  sublime  is  as  inti- 
\mately  associated  with  darkness.  Young  in  his  Night  Thoughts 
impressively  calls  it  "  the  felt  presence  of  the  Deity." 

Of  the  capability  of  shadow  to  impart  a  greater  degree  of  hor- 
s  ror  to  any  subject  of  terror  the  poet  has  ever  been  conscious,  as 
when  *'  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel "  with  inexpressible  sublimity 
speaks  of  his  final  departure  as  a  journey  "  through  the  valley  of 
the  shadow  of  death,"  and  again  when,  in  portraying  the  awful 
majesty  of  Jehovah,  he  is  represented  as  shrouded  in  clouds 
and  darkness,  as  having  his  way  in  the  whirlwind,  and  dwell- 
ing in  thick  darkness. 

It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  illustrations  to  the  same  effect 
from  both  sacred  and  profane  writings,  for  nowhere  so  often  as 
in  "  the  dark  valley  "  has  poetry  gathered  its  beautiful,  though 
sometimes  deadly  flowers  ;  and  we  might  say  as  much  of  the  in- 
fluences of  light,  but  as  they  are  of  a  character  directly  opposite 
to  that  of  darkness,  they  in  a  great  measure  explain  themselves. 

It  is  true  that  the  foregoing  observations  have  an  especial 
reference  to  the  exhibitions  of  light  and  darkness  with  their 
attendant  influences  in  the  natural  world,  yet  they  are  equally 
applicable  to  and  perfectly  explain  all  the  varied  effects  and  mys- 
terious influences  of  light  and  shadow  in  pictorial  representa- 
tions ;  for  it  is  but  a  picture  that  the  mind  contemplates  in 
both  instances,  and  in  both  equally  made  out  by  lights  and 
shades  and  colors,  —  in  the  one  case  reflected  directly  from  the 
natural  object  on  the  retina  of  the  beholder ;  in  the  other,  first 
on  the  retina  of  the  artist,  thence  transferred  to  the  canvas,  and 
again  in  the  last  remove  reflected  on  the  retina  of  the  specta- 
tor, the  artist's  eye  and  the  canvas  simply  acting  the  part  of 
a  mirror. 


CIIIARO-OSCURO.  77 

^^^lenco  the  mind  gets  to  be  impressed  with  the  ideas  of 
form,  nearness,  distance,  and  space  in  the  natural  world  is 
another  question.  By  many  they  are  supposed  to  be  intui- 
tive. It  is  not  so,  however  ;  they  are  the  conclusions  of  experi- 
ence. To  a  child,  as  to  a  man  who  was  born  blind  and  has 
recovered  his  sight,  everything  at  first  appears  to  be  very  near, 
and,  like  a  picture  painted  on  a  w4ndow-pane,  equally  distant. 
As  he  grows  older,  however,  he  finds  that  some  objects  and 
parts  of  objects  are  in  reality  behind  or  beyond  others.  This 
he  discovers  himself,  either  by  actual  observation  or  measure- 
ment of  some  kind  or  by  the  observation  and  report  of 
others.  He  further  observes  that  near  objects  have  differ- 
ent appearances  from  those  that  by  experience  he  has  found 
to  be  remote  ;  that  the  first  have  strong  outlines,  much  de- 
tail, and  decided  shades  and  colors  ;  that  these  diminish  in 
strength,  as  the  objects  themselves  in  apparent  size,  in  propor- 
tion as  they  recede  or  are  distant  from  the  eye,  always  conver- 
ging to  the  point  of  sight.  Having  observed  all  these  local 
phenomena,  they  soon  get  to  be  considered  as  so  many  marks 
or  types  set  upon  objects,  and,  being  remembered,  are  referred  to 
on  future  occasions ;  so  that  when  he  sees  other  objects  present- 
ing similar  phenomena,  he  considers  them  to  be  occupying  simi- 
lar places,  and  to  be  equally  near  or  distant,  and  consequently 
to  exist  in  space.  This  is  the  manner  in  which  we  get  to  be  im- 
pressed with  the  ideas  of  nearness,  distance,  and  space  in  the 
natural  world.  In  view,  therefore,  of  what  has  been  said  in  re- 
gard to  all  objects,  whether  in  nature  or  art,  being  presented  to 
the  mind  through  the  medium  of  lights  and  shadows,  or  light 
and  dark  colors,  as  they  are  painted  on  the  retina,  it  follows  tliat, 
to  have  the  like  impressions  of  nearness,  distance,  and  space  re- 
sult from  the  pictorial  representation,  the  artist  has  only  to  imi- 
tate the  appearances,  marks,  or  types  of  the  several  objects  in 
nature. 

"We  have  been  thus  particular  upon  this  part  of  our  subject 
because  of  the  wonder  and  surprise  on  the  part  of  many  persons 
that  painting  should  affect  us  as  do  objects  and  phenomena  in 
nature.      The  view  thus  taken  is  an    important  one,  however 


78  CHIARO-OSCURO. 

trite  it  may  appear,  because  it  shows  that  the  same  laws  regu- 
late both. 

Our  process  thus  far  has  reference,  chiefly,  if  not  entirely, 
to  the  xjarticv.lar  light  and  dark  or  shade  upon  a  picture,  by 
which  we  have  obtained  truth  of  representation.  A  few  words 
now  of  the  general  light  and  shadow  which  spread  in  masses 
over  many  combined  objects  in  a  composition,  as  in  sun- 
light or  candle-light,  where  large  single  forms  or  groups  of  ob- 
jects intervene  to  shut  out  the  light  and  cast  shadow  on  other 
objects.  Few  persons  are  aware  how  much  the  beauty  and 
effect  of  a  painting  or  an  engraving  depend  on  the  general  light 
and  dark.  We  say  the  general  light  and  dark  in  contradistinc- 
tion to  the  2:>articulaT  light  and  shadow  by  which  the  several  ob- 
jects are  rounded  to  the  eye  and  relieved  from  the  canvas,  as 
may  be  seen  illustrated  by  the  drawing  of  a  "  Bunch  of  Grapes  " 
made  in  a  cloudy  day,  compared  with  a  drawing  of  the  same,  on 
the  same  page,  made  when  the  sunlight  fell  brightly  on  one  side 
of  it,  leaving  the  other  parts  in  deep  shadow. 
/  In  each  case  each  particular  grape  is  rounded  to  the  sight  by 
its  own  particular  light  and  shadow.  But  a  general  light  and 
shade,  the  one  on  one  portion  of  the  grapes  and  the  other  on 
another  portion,  divide  the  entire  surface  of  the  bunch  into  two 
great  masses  of  light  and  dark,  and  this  massing  gives  what  in 
technic  language  is  called  breadth,  —  one  of  the  highest  qualities 
of  the  art,  and  a  principal  element  of  the  incturesqiie. 

There  is  a  painting  by  Rembrandt  in  the  National  Gallery, 
in  England,  an  engraving  from  which  forms  an  illustration  of 
this  volume,  "  The  Woman  accused  in  the  Synagogue,"  which 
surprisingly  illustrates  the  value  of  this  principle  in  giving  effect 
and  breadth;  this  is  more  apparent  when  compared  w^ith  the 
arrangement  of  the  lights  and  darks  in  some  of  "  The  Cartoons," 
and  particularly  those  of  "Paul  preaching"  and  "The  School 
of  Athens,"  in  which  there  is  a  want  of  expansiveness  or 
breadth,  resulting  from  the  absence  of  a  general  light  and 
shadow. 

Breadth  of  general  light  and  shadow  in  a  picture  is  of  so  great 
value  that  it  not  only  unites  and  displaj^s  the  beauties  of  design, 


CHIARO-OSCURO.  79 

composition,  and  colo7'  to  the  greatest  advantage,  but  can  disguise 
their  defects  and  render  pleasing  works  deficient  in  almost  every 
other  good  quality  of  art. 

What  was  it  that  once  gave  such  charm  to  Martin's  designs 
of  *'  Belshazzar's  Feast,"  "  The  Departure  of  the  Israelites  from 
Egypt,"  "  The  Opening  of  the  Sixth  Seal,"  "  Pandemonium," 
and  "  Satan  addressing  his  Legions  "  1  There  was  no  correct- 
ness in  the  drawing,  no  truth  in  the  perspective,  no  beauty 
in  the  coloring  of  the  paintings  or  drawings  ft'om  which  these 
impressive  engravings  w^ere  taken,  —  in  short,  little  excellence, 
save  a  tasteful  and  feeling  arrangement  of  the  chiaro-oscuro, 
and  especially  of  the  general  light  and  shadow.  In  the  "  Pan- 
demonium "  the  archangel  is  scarcely  visible  amid  the  mys- 
terious darkness  and  endless  colonnades  of  his  infernal  palace. 
Engravings  from  these  and  other  designs  by  Martin,  and  also 
by  Danby,  an  imitator  of  him,  at  the  time  of  their  appearance, 
some  tw^enty  years  since,  were,  notwithstanding  their  many 
deficiencies  in  almost  every  other  respect,  among  the  most 
popular  works  that  ever  appeared  in  that  department  of  art. 

But  for  a  beautiful  effect  arising  from  a  judicious  arrange- 
ment of  the  general  lights  and  darks,  how"  many  of  the  de- 
servedly esteemed  productions  of  the  Dutch  and  Flemish  schools 
would  be  thrown  aside  as  intolerably  disgusting  !  It  matters 
not  what  the  subject  be  ;  if  the  general  light  and  shadow  is 
tastefully  arranged,  it  becomes  an  agreeable  object  of  contempla- 
tion, and  produces  that  impression  which  entitles  it  to  the  name 
of  a  picture.  Nay,  more ;  in  order  to  produce  the  picturesque^ 
it  is  not  necessary  that  there  should  be  any  subject,  mere 
blotches  of  light  and  dark  accidentally  thrown  together  being 
found  to  produce  ideas  affecting  to  the  mind,  imagination  sup- 
plying the  forms.  So  charming  and  powerful  is  this  quality  of 
breadth  in  chiaro-oscuro. 

But  although  black  and  wdiite  alone  are  thus  effective,  chiaro- 
oscuro  is  more  beautiful  still  when  united  with  and  assisted  by 
light  and  dark  colors. 

Pictures  possessing  breadth  of  the  general  light  and  darh  or 
shade  are  not  only  very  effective,  but  they  likewise  give  great  re- 


80  CHIAEO-OSCURO. 

pose  to  the  eye  ;  whereas,  where  the  hghts  and  darks  are  in  small 
portions  and  much  divided,  the  eye  is  disturbed  and  the  mind 
rendered  uneasy,  especially  if  one  is  anxious  to  understand  every 
object  in  a  composition,  as  it  is  painful  to  the  ear  if  w^e  are  anx- 
ious to  hear  what  is  said  in  company  when  many  are  talking  at 
the  same  time.  Hence  the  reason  wdiy  Gothic  architecture,  when 
closely  viewed,  is  less  pleasing  than  Grecian,  and  why  such  build- 
ings as  Westminster  Abbey  always  appear  more  beautiful  when 
the  spectator  is  far  enough  removed  from  them  to  bring  the  de- 
tail into  masses,  so  as  to  give  what  is  termed  the  general  effect. 
Hence,  too,  the  reason  why  portraits  make  a  more  pleasing 
picture  when  but  few  objects  are  introduced  into  the  composi- 
tion than  when  the  person  is  covered  with  frills  and  ruffles,  and 
the  background  stuffed  like  a  "  curiosity  shop."  Such  an  ar- 
rangement cuts  up  the  lights  and  darks  and  destroys  the 
breadth. 
/■  We  know  it  may  be  asked  if  it  is  not  enough  that  the  artist 
'''  copy  the  light  and  shade  under  which  objects  are  viewed  at  the 
moment  of  imitation  ;  and  we  answer  no,  unless  Nature  presents 
herself  under  favorable  circumstances,  which  is  not  always  the 
case,  and  when  she  does  not,  the  artist  must  correct  her  defi- 
ciencies, —  for  in  this,  as  in  every  other  part  of  the  art,  there 
may  be  selection,  as  may  be  seen  illustrated  in  the  two  draw- 
ings of  the  "Bunch  of  Grapes."  There  may  be  such  a  light  as 
would  give  to  them  either  of  these  appearances  ;  but  if  an  artist 
was  at  liberty  to  select,  there  can  be  no  doubt  at  all  to  which 
aiTangement  he  would  give  the  preference,  —  to  that,  certainly, 
with  the  general  light  and  shadow. 

There  were  doubtless  many  other  ways  of  managing  the  light 
and  shadow  on  Rembrandt's  painting  of  "  The  Woman  Accused," 
but  none,  we  apprehend,  more  pleasing  to  the  eye,  and  so  pro- 
ductive of  breadth  and  that  repose  befitting  so  grave  a  sub- 
ject. 

Again,  it  may  be  asked  if  it  is  not  enough  that  the  lights 
and  darks  in  a  painting  are  true ;  our  answer  is  in  the  nega- 
tive, and  its  correctness  is  exemplified  in  "The  School  of 
Athens,"  one  of  Raphael's  frescos  in  the  Vatican,  which  paint- 


'W^ma^^a^^yyJ^^fy  J^-^ ^^  '-^^^ 


■'Z^l^cJcV^''- 


Of  TBB^- 


CHIARO-OSCURO.  8 1 

ing,  from  his  neglecting  to  unite  the  assemblage  of  figures  by  a 
commanding  mass  and  allowing  exj^ression  to  preponderate  at 
the  expense  of  everything  else,  has  in  it  little  that  is  attrac- 
tive to  a  mind  unqualified  to  penetrate  the  design.  To  see  the 
value  of  a  selected  and  composed  light  and  shade  over  a  natural 
light  and  shade,  one  has  only  to  compare  an  imjiression  taken 
by  a  camera  with  a  painting  of  the  same  subject  with  a  selected 
or  imagined  light  and  shade. 

Although  this  massing  of  the  lights  and  darks  in  a  picture  is  so 
very  desirable,  it  is  not  always  easy  to  obtain  it.  Hence  we  some- 
times find  artists  resorting  to  curious  means  to  accomplish  and 
justify  it,  as  did  Titian  in  his  celebrated  painting  "  The  En- 
tombment," in  w^hich  the  light  falls  on  a  man  in  the  front  j^art 
of  the  composition,  although  the  sun  is  setting  in  the  rear  ; 
the  painter  supposing  it  reflected  from  a  cloud  in  advance  of 
the  field  of  the  picture. 

Others  have  imagined  a  dark  cloud  or  some  other  object 
outside  of  the  picture,  and  thus  excused  the  introduction  of  a 
shadow. 

Of  course  this  massing  process  does  not  destroy  the  individual 
lights  and  darks  or  shadows  of  objects,  as  may  again  be  illus- 
trated by  the  "  Bunch  of  Grapes,"  where  each  individual  grape 
has  its  own  light  and  shade  and  reflection  by  wdiich  it  is  made 
out  and  rounded  to  the  eye,  although  the  general  light  and 
shadow  make  of  them  but  two  large  masses. 

If  any  one  has  sufficient  imagination  to  suppose  these  grapes 
to  be  so  many  persons  or  other  objects  in  a  composition,  he  will 
at  once  comprehend  the  value  that  Titian  attached  to  it  as  a 
guide  for  the  arrangement  and  massing  of  the  lights  and  darks 
of  a  more  extended  picture. 

As  this  massing  to  obtain  breadth  is  not  destructive  of  the 
particular  lights  and  shadows  of  objects,  neither  does  it  pre- 
clude contrasts  and  ahrupt  transitions  of  light  and  dark  ;  for  these 
are  required,  like  a  strong  note  in  music,  to  strike  attention  and 
direct  it  to  some  particular  point,  —  as  again  illustrated  in  the 
design  of  "  The  Woman  Accused,"  her  accuser  being  clothed  in 
deep  black,  though  standing  in  a  mass  of  light ;  and  this  ar- 


82  CHIARO-OSCURO. 

rangement  not  only  serves  to  separate  her  from  the  rest  of  the 
group,  but  likewise  to  give  effect  to  the  white  of  the  other  prin- 
cipal figures,  Christ  and  the  supposed  adulteress.  The  operation 
of  these  contrasts  is  also  to  produce  solidity  and  relief,  and  con- 
sequently to  prevent  insipidity  and  flatness. 

Although  in  this  picture  the  strongest  light  falls  on  Christ  and 
the  accused  woman,  the  principal  figures  of  the  composition,  yet 
it  is  not  alw^ays  necessary,  any  more  than  that  the  principal 
figure  should  be  in  the  centre  of  the  composition  ;  all  that  is  re- 
quired is,  that  attention  should  be  drawn  towards  the  principal 
figure  in  some  plausible  manner.  It  is  sometimes  better  to 
have  the  principal  light  on  one  side,  —  as  in  a  painting  by  Cor- 
reggio  called  "  Christ's  Agony  in  the  Garden,"  —  for  it  affords 
greater  space  for  breadth  of  shadow. 

If  the  frame  of  the  picture  be  considered  as  a  window,  or  the 
limits  of  any  other  aperture,  it  is  improper  to  sacrifice  all  the 
extremities  to  concentrated  light  on  the  middle  ground,  except 
in  particular  instances  (as  the  "Del  Notte,"  or  "Nativity,"  by 
Correggio) ;  for  thereby  the  picture  becomes  less  than  the  canvas, 
and  prevents  the  imagination  from  exercising  its  ingenuity  upon 
something  out  of  it. 

Whatever  has  a  definite  limit  is  reduced  to  reality,  and 
all  reality  is  fatal  to  the  imagination.  "  The  hand  that  warned 
Belshazzar  derived  its  horrifying  influence  from  the  want  of  a 
body." 

Although  in  the  drawing  of  the  "Bunch  of  Grapes"  there 
are  but  tivo  great  masses  of  light  and  dark,  from  this  the  con- 
clusion is  not  to  be  drawn  that  such  must  be  the  usual  unvaried 
arrangement,  for  there  may  be  several  masses.  Reynolds  thinks 
that  there  should  be  three  of  light,  in  which  case  they  must  be 
treated  as  parts  of  a  whole,  by  making  one  the  chief,  and  the 
others  subordinate,  —  satellites,  as  it  were,  of  the  former ;  they 
should  also  be  of  different  shapes,  as  different  in  power,  for  the  rea- 
sons assigned  when  treating  the  subject  of  composition,  namely, 
that  equal  qijantities  and  equal  shapes  produce  hesitation  and 
perplexity  in  the  spectator. 

Our  remarks  thus  far  have  had  relation  chiefly  to  the  em- 


CHIARO-OSCURO.  83 

ploymeiit  of  cliiaro-oscuro  to  render  the  surface  of  the  picture 
agreeable,  by  dividing  it  into  masses  of  light  and  dark,  whether 
produced  by  light  and  shadow,  by  light  and  dark  colors,  or  by 
the  two  united.  But  the  mind  has  claims  as  well  as  the  eye, 
and  this  leads  us  next  to  consider  the  second  part  of  our  subject, 
namely,  the  employment  of  chiaro-oscuro  to  assist  sentiment  and 
give  expression^  —  for  this,  like  composition  and  cohjr,  sliould  be 
an  echo  to  the  sense. 

There  is  no  very  great  difficulty  in  rendering  the  surface  of 
the  canvas  merely  agreeable  to  the  eye,  and  much  easier  to  imi- 
tate the  common  effects  of  objects  around  us, — that  is,  to  give 
them  the  appearance  of  nearness,  distance,  and  relief,  —  beca\ise 
this  portion  of  chiaro-oscuro  is  regulated  by  rules.  But  that 
ideal  or  poetic  management  of  it  which,  by  tone^  by  arrancje- 
ment,  and  by  regulated  quantities,  produces  sensations  within  us 
like  those  attendant  on  actual  circumstances,  of  a  nature  grave 
or  gay,  dreadful  or  mysterious,  a^vful  or  sublime,  is  attended 
with  many  difficulties,  inasmuch  as  it  admits  of  no  very  specific 
regulations  ;  for  every  subject  that  conve3's  any  particular  senti-^ 
ment  requires  a  distinct,  individual,  and  particular  treatment,  — 
no  two  admitting  of  a  similar  arrangement  in  the  lights  and 
shadows  any  more  than  in  the  composition  of  their  forms  or 
figures,  or  in  the  choice,  disposition,  and  tone  of  colors. 

No  rule  of  art  is  so  little  known  to,  or,  if  known,  is  so  little 
observed  by  painters,  as  that  w^hich  requires  that  the  lights  and 
darks  of  a  painting  should  be  so  arranged  as  to  assist  sentiment 
and  be  an  echo  to  the  sense ;  its  observance  always  gives  point. 
I  know  of  no  paintings  in  which  this  can  be  seen  better  illus- 
trated than  in  the  "  Del  Notte,"  by  Correggio,  "  The  Appearance 
to  the  Shepherds,"  and  the  ''  Ecce  Homo,"  by  Rembrandt. 

In  the  "  Del  Notte  "  —  or  "  The  Nativity,"  as  it  is  more  gener- 
ally called  —  the  entire  light  of  the  picture  is  the  supernatural 
illumination  of  the  infant  Saviour,  from  ivhoni  the  light  emanates 
as  from  a  glow-worm,  strikes  upw' ards  upon  the  beautiful  fiice  of 
the  Virgin  Mother,  the  more  rugged  features  of  Joseph,  the 
surrounding  shepherds,  and  the  overhanging  group  of  angels, 
and  finally  dies  aw^ay,  and  is  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  sur- 


84  CHIARO-OSCURO. 

rounding  shadows,  —  "an  arrangement,"  says  Opie,  "that  may 
challenge  anything  in  the  whole  circle  of  art,  both  for  the  splen- 
dor of  its  effects  and  for  its  happy  j^oetic  appropriation  to  the 
person  of  One  born  to  dispel  the  clouds  of  ignorance  and  diffuse 
the  light  of  truth  over  a  world  lying  in  darkness." 

In  "  The  Appearance  to  the  Shepherds  "  a  mass  of  shadow 
runs  through  the  canvas  from  right  to  left,  and  thus  gives  the 
necessary  breadth ;  above  this  is  the  principal  mass  of  light, 
radiating  from  a  centre,  with  a  multitude  of  cherubs  sporting 
in  its  beams.  Out  of  this  light  an  angel  addresses  the  shep- 
herds across  a  gulf  of  shadow,  which  shadow  has  a  poetic  allu- 
sion to  the  moral  darkness  which  at  the  time  of  Christ's  ap- 
pearance hung  over  the  world.  The  second  light  is  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  picture,  not  quietly  brilliant,  as  is  the  upper 
light,  but  irregularly  dispersed,  thus  conveying  the  appearance 
of  terror  and  confusion  among  the  flocks,  which  are  represented 
as  flying  in  all  directions. 

In  the  "  Ecce  Homo  "  the  Saviour  is  the  centre  of  a  gTOup, 
in  a  quiet,  broad  mass  of  light.  Pilate  with  the  multitude 
stands  also  in  a  broad  light ;  but  it  is  intermingled,  as  in  "  The 
Appearance  to  the  Shepherds,"  with  strong  darks,  thereby  pro- 
ducing the  appearance  of  much  brilliancy  and  much  agitation. 
This  is  the  composition  of  the  lights  and  darks  in  the  painting, 
and  nothing  could  be  more  admirable,  —  for  thereby  the  quiet 
character  of  Christ  is  preserved,  and  his  superiority  maintained 
by  his  forming  the  bright  centre  of  one  group  ;  while  Pilate, 
forming  the  apex  of  the  other  group  (which  gi'oup,  be  it  remem- 
bered, is  in  a  mass  of  broken  light),  rises  like  a  p^a-amid  from 
the  tumultuous  weaves  below. 

From  these  few  examples  it  will  be  seen,  that,  although 
masses  of  light  and  dark  are  always  desirable  in  a  picture,  to 
give  breadth  and  effect,  yet,  with  regard  to  the  proportion 
and  shape  of  the  masses,  no  rule  can  be  given,  other  than  that 
resulting  from  the  nature  of  the  subject.  Bearing  in  mind, 
however,  the  position  with  which  we  commenced  this  essay, 
namely,  that  it  is  characteristic  of  light  to  exhilarate  and  of 
darkness  to  depress,   to  render  i)ensive,  sober,  thoughtful ;  that 


CHIARO-OSCURO.  85 

cheefulness  and  animation  arc  produced  by  a  preponderance  of 
the  first,  and  seriousness  by  a  preponderance  of  the  last,  and, 
fiu'thermore,  that  light  and  dark  soothe  by  breadth  and  gentle 
gradation,  strike  by  contrast,  and  rouse  by  abrupt  transition,  — 
we  are  furnished  with  some  (jeneral  rule,  and  only  a  general  rule, 
for  the  management  of  the  chiaro-oscuro  of  a  picture  ;  for  as 
the  subjects  of  painting  are  nimierous,  so  also  must  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  several  constituent  portions  of  the  art  differ. 

And  now  perhaj)s  it  may  be  inquired  if  there  are  not  many 
highly  esteemed  pictures  that  have  not  this  i^oetic  adaptation 
of  the  lights  a,nd  shadows,  and  the  answer  is  in  the  affirmative ; 
but  then  it  may  be  asked,  in  return,  if  such  delineations  would 
not  have  had  more  point,  and  been  more  complete,  attractive, 
and  effective  with  it. 

This  poetic  adaptation  of  light  and  shadow  to  give  expres- 
sion, and  artificial  aiTangement  of  the  masses  to  give  breadth 
and  effect,  was  but  little,  perhaps  not  at  all,  understood  by  any 
of  the  Italian  artists  previous  to  Da  Viuci.  The  first  evidence 
of  it  is  to  be  found  in  his  "  Battle  of  the  Standard,"  and  more 
particularly  in  "  The  Last  Supper,"  not  as  seen  in  the  engraving 
of  it,  for  the  chiaro-oscuro  of  this  picture  is  said  to  have  been 
greatly  changed  by  the  celebrated  engi'aver,  Raphael  Morghen, 

Da  Vinci  was  the  first  to  perceive  the  value  of  concentrated 
light.  By  suiTounding  it  with  dark,  and  blending  the  whole  by 
imperceptible  degi'ees,  he  gave  a  gentleness  and  a  grace  to  the 
art  which  it  never  before  possessed.  This  improvement,  how- 
ever, was  little  appreciated  by  his  contemporaries. 

Some  astonishing  effects  of  chiaro-oscuro  are  to  be  found  in  a 
few  of  Michael  Angelo's  works,  particularly  in  his  frescos  in 
the  Sistine  Chapel.  Wilkie  and  some  other  English  artists, 
who  examined  them  not  many  years  ago  very  critically,  dis- 
covered a  brilliancy  in  the  chiaro-oscuro  of  some  portion  of 
them  which  (as  they  thought)  was  not  surpassed  by  anything 
in  Piembrandt ;  but  this  has  not  been  copied  by  the  engi-aver, 
on  the  supposition,  as  some  imagine,  that  those  portions  have 
become  more  brilliant  by  accident.  But  this  is  "all  in  supposi- 
tion."    That  this  improvement  of  Da  Vinci  was  not  regarded 


86  CHIAKO-OSCURO. 

by  Michael  Angelo  as  a  principle  is  inferred  from  the  fact  that 
the  celebrated  cartoon  of  "The  Battle  of  Pisa"  —  his  greatest 
effort,  out  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  —  exhibits  little  more  than 
individual  light  and  shade. 

Although  some  of  Raphael's  productions  exhibit  a  very  skilful 
distribution  of  light  and  shadow,  as  "  The  Donation  of  the  Keys 
to  Peter,"  "  The  Deliverance  of  St.  Peter  from  Prison,"  "  The 
Overthrow  of  Heliodorus,"  "  The  Defeat  of  Attila,"  and  "  The 
Mass  of  Bolsena,"  the  arrangement  cannot,  it  is  thought,  be 
referred  to  a  principle  of  imitation,  when  he  has  not  availed 
himself  of  it  in  "  La  Incendio  del  Borgo,"  where  it  might  have 
been  displayed  with  wonderful  effect. 

The  true  principles  of  chiaro-oscuro  w^ere  better  understood 
by  the  Venetians,  but  the  broad  effect  of  light  and  dark  in  their 
paintings  was  more  frequently  the  result  of  an  accordance  and 
opposition  of  light  and  dark  colors  of  the  different  objects,  than 
of  any  studied  distribution  of  light  and  shade. 

The  most  perfect  application  of  chiaro-oscuro  was  undoubtedly 
by  the  head  of  the  Lombard  school,  Correggio.  It  is  thought 
that  he  got  the  secret  from  Da  Vinci,  but  he  so  extended  the 
principle,  that  of  chiaro-oscuro  as  it  relates  to  a  ivhole  he  is  now 
considered  the  inventor.  All  that  is  excellent  in  this  quality  of 
art,  since  Correggio,  dates  from  that  master. 

From  that  great  luminary,  the  light  first  emanating  from  Da 
Vinci  was,  about  the  commencement  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
reflected  upon  the  Flemish  Rubens;  which  being  thrown  off 
from  him  upon  his  countrymen  and  other  painters  of  Europe, 
finally  became  concentrated,  as  if  passing  through  a  lens,  upon 
that  w^onder  in  art,  Rembrandt  Van  Ryn. 

By  comparing  the  works  of  Correggio  and  Rembrandt,  it  w^ill 
be  perceived,  that,  although  none  of  the  painters  which  ancient 
or  modern  art  has  produced  have  been  so  distinguished  as  they 
were  for  beautiful  and  effective  chiaro-oscuro,  yet  they  in  this 
particvilar,  bear  little  resemblance  to  each  other.  And  this 
is  the  difference.  \\\  Correggio's  productions  the  light  is  very 
much  diffused,  in  Rembrandt's  it  is  very  much  concentrated, 
—  for  w^hicli  reason  his  paintings  are  the  most  brilliant    and 


CHIAKO-OSCUKO.  87 

astounding,  but  not  the  most  pleasing,  gratifying,  or  attrac- 
tive. 

There  is  a  refinement  about  Correggio's  art,  and  a  fascination 
that  ckisters  around  him  as  Correggio,  that  makes  him  regarded 
with  an  admiration  not  bestowed  on  any  other  artist. 

Kembrandt  excites  no  personal  admiration,  none  of  that  afiec- 
tion  with  which  we  regard  llaphael,  none  of  that  veneration  and 
respect  which  the  world  bestows  on  Michael  Angelo.  And  yet, 
although  he  has  been  guilty  of  almost  every  offence  against  art, 
sacrificing  all  decorum,  all  propriety,  all  beauty,  all  truth,  all 
regard  to  costume,  all  character,  all  grandeur,  yet,  by  the  rich- 
ness of  his  coloring,  and,  abo^^^e  all,  by  the  wonderful  manage- 
ment of  his  chiaro-oscuro,  he  has  produced  works  of  such  magi- 
cal influence,  and  so  gorgeous  and  overpowering  in  brilliancy, 
as  almost  to  persuade  us  to  believe  that  he  painted  with  a  pen- 
cil dipped  in  that  "golden  fountain  poured  from  unnumbered 
urns  "  when,  in  the  morning  of  creation,  the  Almighty  divided 
the  light  from  the  darkness. 


ESSAY    VII. 

COLOR. 

THE  mysteries  of  color  will  form  the  subject  of  the  present 
essay.  This,  although  the  most  enchanting,  is,  for  the 
general  purposes  of  imitation,  the  least  essential  of  the  compo- 
nent parts  of  painting ;  certainly  less  so  than  chiaro-oscuro  and 
design,  since  it  can  effect  nothing  without  them,  while  they  of 
themselves  can  excite  great  emotion  in  the  mind,  as  exemplified 
in  outlines  and  shaded  engravings. 

But  w^hile  we  are  desirous  to  assign  to  color  its  proper  posi- 
tion, let  us  carefully  avoid  underrating  its  value  ;  for  in  addition 
"  to  its  giving  more  the  appearance  of  reality  to  the  productions 
of  the  pencil,  generally  imparting  beauty,  and  in  many  cases 
increasing  expression,  there  are  many  things  in  a  picture  almost 
entirely  dependent  upon  color  for  their  representation,  as  pre- 
cious stones  and  flowers.  There  is  no  other  medium  through 
which  the  glow  of  health  or  the  languor  of  sickness  can  be  so 
well  expressed ;  and  the  same  may  be  likewise  said  of  the  beau- 
ties of  the  atmosphere,  the  morning  dawn,  and  the  evening- 
splendor  ;  the  tender  freshness  of  spring,  too,  the  fervid  vivacity 
of  summer,  and  the  mellow  abundance  of  autumn,  can  by  no  other 
means  be  so  well  conveyed  to  our  perception  as  by  color. 

"  It  serves,  too,  in  nature  and  art,  to  characterize  the  various 
qualities,  textures,  and  surfaces  of  bodies  in  all  their  various 
situations  of  light,  shadow,  and  reflection ;  and  as  every  passion 
and  aff'cction  has  its  appropriate  tint,  as  well  as  attitude  and 
gesture,  color  lends  its  aid  in  disseminating  and  expressing 
them,  heightening  joy,  inflaming  anger,  deepening  sadness,  and 
adding  coldness  to  the  cheek  of  death." 

Although,  in  considering  the  subject  of  Color,  we  do  not  deem 


COLOR.  89 

it  within  our  province  to  enter  into  a  chemic  disquisition  upon 
the  materials  used  in  the  art,  however  useful  such  information 
might  be  to  the  practical  student,  yet,  in  order  to  a  clear  under- 
standing of  what  we  have  to  offer  upon  this  interesting  theme, 
it  may  be  well  (even  at  the  risk  of  repeating  that  which  is  gen- 
erally learned  in  the  schools)  to  explain  a  few  of  the  terms 
usually  employed  in  discussions  of  this  subject;  for  every  art 
and  science  has  its  technic  appellations,  and  those  usually  em- 
ployed in  painting  are  iwimary  and  compound^  iwdtive  and 
neutraly  local  and  rejiected,  hot  and  cold  colors,  hue,  tone,  and  tint, 
contrast  and  opposition. 

Hue,  tone,  and  tint  are  sometimes  used  synonymously  :  they 
have,  however,  a  distinct  meaning.  We  shall  therefore  define 
hue  as  signifying  the  peculiar  color  w^hich  distinguishes  one  pig- 
ment from  another,  —  as  red  from  blue,  blue  from  yellow,  — 
through  all  their  varieties  and  combinations. 

The  term  tint  we  shall  employ  to  signify  the  degree  of  the 
gradation  of  a  color,  from  its  extreme  intensity  to  the  faintest, 
rendered  more  and  more  faint  by  its  admixture  with  w^hite ; 
and  tone  to  signify  the  degree  and  color  of  the  illumination  of 
the  light  and  shadow,  —  as  a  yellow  and  light  and  gay  tone  by 
^nlight,  and  a  gray  and  sombre  tone  by  twilight;  it  is,  in  fact,  the 
color  of  the  atmosphere  resting  on  and  qualifying  the  color  of 
every  object  in  the  picture. 

By  local  color  is  meant  the  inherent  hue  of  a  color  apart 
from  any  foreign  influence,  —  as  reflection,  refraction,  excessive 
light,  or  absorption  of  light  by  the  atmosphere,  all  which  have 
an  effect  to  change  or  modify  color. 

Modern  philosophers  difl^er  much  as  to  the  number  of  colors 
in  the  iris,  or  rainbow  ;  there  are,  however,  at  least  seven,  — three 
of  which  (red,  blue,  and  yellow)  are  called  primary,  and  the  four 
others  (orange,  gi-een,  purple,  and  violet)  are  called  compound. 
The  primary  being  so  called  because  they  are  entirely  distinct 
from  each  other,  and  cannot  be  formed  by  any  admixture  ;  while 
the  compound  are  so  called  because  formed  by  a  union  of  two 
of  the  primitives  in  equal  degi'ee  —  in  which  they  are  distin- 
guished from  the  negatives,  which  are  compounded  of  the  three 


90  COLOR. 

primitives  in  unequal  degree,  and,  having  no  jjositiveness  of  hue, 
thence  get  their  name.  They  have,  however,  more  positiveness 
of  color  than  when  the  three  primitives  are  comjDounded  in  equal 
degree,  as  then  the  product  is  black,  or  no  color  at  all. 

Colors  are  sometimes  characterized  as  hot  and  cold.  The  hot 
including  the  reds  and  yellows,  with  their  blood-relations,  the  large 
family  of  the  hi^oivns ;  the  cold  colors  including  the  hlues,  the 
violets,  and  the  small  family  of  the  grays. 

Peculiar  influences  attach  to  colors,  and  this  is  a  most  im- 
portant circumstance  to  be  remembered,  as  it  involves  a  vast 
deal  of  the  philosophy  of  this  constituent  portion  of  painting. 
The  cold  produce  a  softer  infl,uence  upon  the  eye  than  hot  colors, 
that  is,  excite  it  less.  The  predominance,  therefore,  of  the  cold 
colors  in  subjects  of  a  soft,  tender,  and  pathetic  character,  and  of 
the  warm  colors  in  representations  of  gay  and  animated  scenes, 
is  not  only  in  accordance  with  the  practice  of  the  best  masters, 
but  is  agreeable  to  and  explains  that  important  principle  of  art 
of  which  we  are  presently  to  speak,  namely,  that  which  requires 
a  correspondence  to  he  preserved  hetiveen  the  hues  employed  and  the 
sentiment  of  the  subject,  making  the  colors  an  echo  to  the  sense. 

But  the  ivarm  colors  not  only  excite  the  eye  more  powerfully 
than  the  cool,  they  also  come  forward  upon  the  canvas,  as  also 
the  admixtures  wherein  they  most  prevail ;  whereas  blue,  and 
all  those  other  cool  colors  w^hich  partake  largely  of  it,  as  the 
greens,  grays,  purples,  and  violets,  seem  to  recede,  and  fall  into 
the  gi'ound  of  the  picture,  particularly  the  gray  ;  and  hence  the 
impropriety  and  adverseness  to  natural  effect  in  employing  cool 
colors  upon  projecting  objects  in  front,  or  wai'm  upon  those  which 
should  retire,  —  because  the  former  produce  too  little,  and  the 
latter  too  much  relief,  and  thus,  in  addition  to  the  exciting- 
power  of  the  one  and  the  non-exciting  powder  of  the  other,  attract 
an  undue  attention. 

This  rule,  however,  is  sometimes  departed  from  for  some  par- 
ticular purpose,  as  either  to  give  importance  to  some  particular 
figure  or  to  throw  others  into  insignificance,  —  as  by  Titian,  in 
one  of  his  best  pictures,  "  The  Scourging  of  Christ,"  now  in  the 
Louvre,  in  which  he  has  covered  i\iQ  front  figure  (the  guard)  with 


COLOR.  91 

g:ray  armor,  leaving  the  red  drapery  of  the  Saviour,  a  rear  figure, 

to  act  with  full  power  and  attract  the  eye,  —  Christ  being  a  more 

important   'personage    than    the    guard,    whom   the   composition 

obliged  him  to  place  in  front. 

But  the  effect  of  colors  in  causing  objects  to  appear  to  recede 

and  advance  may  be  seen  operating  more  palpably  in  landscape 

painting,  where  the  masses  of  ivarni  colors  are  almost  always 

placed  in  the  foreground,   gradually  diminishing,  however,  in 

power  and  strength,  and  approximating  more  and  more  to  the 

bluish  hues,  —  that  is,  the  color  of  the  atmosphere,  — until,  like 

Bryant's  water-fowl,  they  are  lost  in  the  gray  distance. 

"  Thou  art  gone. 
The  abyss  of  heaven  hath  swallowed  up  thy  form." 

And  this  arrangement  is  not  only  agreeable  to  the  natural  effect 
of  color,  but  is  also  in  obedience  to  the  law^s  of  aerial  perspective, 
which  means  the  gradual  weakening  of  the  hues  of  colors,  —  as 
linear  perspective,  of  their  magnitude,  — just  in  proportion  to  the 
impurity  of  the  air  and  their  removal  from  the  eye,  —  a  dilution 
that  becomes  weaker  and  weaker  from  the  several  rays  w^hich 
proceed  from  any  object,  and  by  w^hich  it  is  made  visible  to  us, 
being  more  and  more  absorbed  by  or  tinged  with  the  intervening 
atmosphere. 

It  is  chiefly  by  means  of  this  dilution  or  diminishing  of 
the  strength  of  colors  of  objects  that  a  painter  can  represent 
them  at  different  distances  on  the  canvas.  The  diminution  of 
their  magnitude  alone,  without  this  degi-adation  to  the  color 
of  the  atmosphere  and  indistinctness  of  outline  and  minute 
parts,  would  not  have  the  desired  effect,  —  that  is,  where  we 
advance  beyond  a  mere  outline,  and  employ  color,  or  only 
shadow,  —  even  if  the  rear  figures  were  made  much  less  in 
size  than  the  front  figures  in  the  same  piece,  as  in  Michael 
Angelo  and  Sebastiano  del  Piombo's  celebrated  painting,  "  The 
Raising  of  Lazarus,"  in  which  (in  the  original)  the  groups  seem 
to  stand  above,  rather  than  beyond  each  other,  the  glaring- 
opaque  colors  in  which  the  more  remote  are  represented  giving 
to  them  not  the  appearance  of  men  of  full  size,  but  of  p3'gmies 
or  Liliputians,  —  which  would  not  be  the  case  if  the  colors  had 


1)2  COLOR. 

been  more  diluted  or  transparent,  inclining  in  proportion  to 
their  distance  more  and  more  to  the  color  of  the  atmosphere, 
agreeably  to  the  laws  of  aerial  perspective.  This  defect,  however, 
is  not  apparent  in  the  engraving,  it  being  caused  simply  by  too 
much  positiveness  of  color,  and  not  by  the  chiaro-oscuro. 

Much  space  and  time  might  be  given  to  a  consideration  of 
the  effect  of  light  upon  color,  but  we  shall  confine  ourselves  to 
simply  stating,  that,  whatever  the  inherent  or  local  color  of  an 
o})ject  may  be,  whether  yellow,  blue,  or  red,  in  the  brightest 
light  and  deepest  shadow  they  assimilate,  each  and  all  becom- 
ing in  the  highest  light  white,  in  the  deepest  shadow  black; 
that  is,  in  either  case  they  have  no  color  at  all,  —  white  being  the 
receiver  of  color,  and  black  the  negation  of  it.  In  the  demi- 
tint,  or  half  light,  all  colors  very  much  resemble  each  other,  a 
positive  difference  between  one  color  and  another  being  to  be 
seen  only  between  the  demi-tint  and  the  highest  light. 

Much  of  the  above  is  trite  enough  certainly,  but  in  an 
elementary  treatise  nothing  should  be  taken  as  granted.  And 
yet  it  is  believed  no  more  has  been  said  than  was  necessary  for 
an  easy  understanding  of  what  next  we  have  to  offer  in  regard 
to  those  qualities  of  good  coloring  called  breadth,  unity,  and  har- 
mony, and  the  correspondence  to  be  maintained  between  the  hues 
employed  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject.  And  first  of  har- 
mony, —  for  there  is  an  accordance  in  colors  as  well  as  in  sounds. 

There  are  those  w^ho  think  that  harmony  of  colors  depends 
upon  arrangement.  Mr.  Benjamin  West  had  an  idea  that  the 
one  most  satisfactory  w^as  to  be  found  in  the  iris,  and  endeav- 
ored to  establish  a  theory  uj)on  it,  but  without  success,  as  the 
only  rational  view  of  the  matter  is  to  regard  the  chromatic 
scale  as  you  would  the  gamut  in  music,  or  letters  or  words  in 
language,  as  so  many  signs  to  be  combined  and  varied  in  modes 
inmunerable. 

But  while  we  do  not  assent  to  the  arrangement  of  colors  in 
the  iris  as  necessary  to  produce  harmony,  and  the  eye  delights 
in  viewing  colors  separately,  yet,  if  we  go  beyond  one  color,  the 
three  primitives  are  required  to  produce  an  agreeable  arrange- 
ment ;  two  will  not  satisfy  it,  but  there  must  be  a  yellow,  red,  and 


I 
COLOR.  93 

blue,  either,  separate,  or  one  separate  and  the  other  two  combined,  — 
as  a  yellow  and  a  purple,  a  tint  compounded  of  red  and  blue  ;  or 
a  ?'«/  and  a  green,  a  compoimd  of  blue  and  yellow  ;  or  a  blue  and 
orange,  a  compound  of  yellow  and  red ;  and  the  reason  for  or 
philosophy  of  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  relation  such  a  combina- 
tion or  arrangement  bears  to  the  prismatic  colors  in  a  ray  of 
light,  —  light  being  a  natural  pleasure  of  vision. 

There  are  those  who  make  harmony  to  depend  on  tone  and 
reflection,  —  on  tone,  when  the  whole  picture  is  wrought  under 
the  same  degTce  of  illumination,  as  in  a  sunlight  view  tingeing 
all  the  colors  with  yellow,  and  when  objects  are  illuminated 
without  sunshine,  tingeing  them  with  blue  or  gray,  for  the  rea- 
son that  the  air  interposed  between  the  colors  and  the  eye  is,  ac- 
cording to  the  circumstances,  either  yellow  or  blue,  the  effect  of 
which  is  to  assimilate  colors,  and  consequently  assist  in  pro- 
ducing harmony. 

By  reflection  harmony  is  produced,  when  the  color  of  one 
object  is  thrown  off  upon  the  color  of  an  object  adjoining,  and 
so  throughout  the  picture,  —  a  method  that  was  practised  with 
much  success  by  the  old  Dutch  painters,  as  may  be  seen  very 
strikingly  illustrated  in  a  small  picture  by  an  unknown  artist, 
called  "A  Market-Stall,"  which,  like  a  great  many  other  compo- 
sitions of  that  school,  represents  an  interior,  two  windows,  a 
man,  a  curtain,  a  table,  a  chair,  two  pitchers,  and  two  cabbages, 
—  the  sum-total,  often,  of  a  Dutchman's  imagination,  except 
when  he  chooses  to  be  very  pathetic,  and  then  he  adds  an 
onion. 

In  this  picture  the  light  is  admitted  through  a  window  on 
the  left,  and,  falling  on  a  red  curtain,  is  from  that  reflected  with 
a  reddish  hue  on  to  yellow  pitcher  No.  1,  and  from  that  with 
an  acquired  yellow  hue  on  to  cabbage  No.  1,  and  thence  in  a 
more  modified  form,  with  very  little  of  the  yellow  tinge,  but  more 
of  the  green,  on  to  cabbage  No.  2,  and  from  that,  with  a 
more  gi'eenish  tinge,  is  reflected  on  to  pitcher  No.  2,  and  thence, 
clambering  up  the  chair  and  over  the  back  of  the  Dutchman, 
passes  with  a  faint  yellow  tint  quietly  out  of  the  second  window. 
This,  although    a  very  humble    illustration,    exemplifies   most 


94  COLOR. 

forcibly  the  mode  of  producing  harmony  by  reflection,  and  we 
might  add  by  refraction,  for  reflection  takes  place  only  where 
the  object  receiving  the  color  is  of  a  polished  nature.  The 
efl'ect  of  this  process  is  to  produce  a  connection  between  the 
ivarm  and  cold  colors,  and  consequently  a  union  throughout  the 
composition. 

There  are  those  who  think  that  harmony  results  more  or  less 
from  a  balance  of  light  and  dark  colors,  that  is,  from  their 
being  so  aiTanged  and  proportioned  as  to  strength  and  magni- 
tude that  one  part  shall  not  appear  to  outweigh  or  overpower 
the  other,  making  the  composition  impoised,  or  not  in  keeping 
one  part  with  the  other. 

In  the  great  painting  by  Paul  Veronese  in  the  Louvre,  "  The 
Marriage  at  Cana,"  as  it  is  improperly  called  (a  composition 
containing  over  one  hundred  and  sixty  figures  of  life-size),  may 
be  seen  the  black  head  of  a  dog  protruding  itself  through  the 
balustrade  of  a  building  near  the  courtyard  where  the  mar- 
riage feast  is  being  given.  It  is  not  very  skilfully  painted,  and 
therefore  not  very  ornamental ;  but  why  did  the  painter  put  it 
there  1  The  answer  is  obvious,  —  because  it  required  some  dark 
object  in  that  part  of  the  design  to  balance  the  dark  masses  in 
other  parts  of  the  picture.  Let  any  one  for  a  moment  hide  the 
head  with  a  light  object,  and  the  painting  loses  its  position,  the 
harmonious  balance  is  destroyed,  the  feelings  of  the  spectator 
are  disturbed,  and  that  repose  which  results  from  a  symmetrical 
disposition  of  colors  is  wanting. 

Such  are  some  of  the  modes  by  which  harmony  of  colors 
is  produced  in  painting.  Each  is  well  enough  as  far  as  it  goes, 
but  complete  harmony  of  color  is  the  result  only  where  they  all 
unitedly  operate. 

In  the  essay  on  Chiaro-Oscuro  we  discussed  at  some  length  the 
subject  of  breadth,  and  stated  that  its  basis  was  extension,  expan- 
siveQiess,  and  that  it  was  obtained  by  dividing  into  masses,  or 
uniting  into  large  bodies,  the  lights  and  darks  of  a  picture ;  ex- 
tension, or  expansiveness,  likewise  is  the  basis  of  hi^eadth  of  color, 
and  is  obtained  by  bringing  together  in  separate  but  large 
masses  the  waryn  and  cold  colors. 


COLOR.  95 

The  effect  of  breadth  in  all  instances  is  to  give  repose  to  the 
eye,  whereas,  when  this  massing  or  extension  does  not  obtain, 
the  eye  and  mind  is  distnrbed  and  cannot  grasp  the  picture,  just 
as  the  ear  is  confounded  when  man}-  are  heard  talking  at  once 
on  the  same  subject. 

Wlicn  breadth  prevails  in  a  composition  united  to  harmony  it 
yields  an  additional  delight.  It  may,  however,  exist  in  a  picture 
without  it,  because  the  entire  surface  may  be  divided  into 
masses  of  warm  and  cold  colors,  w'ithout  anv  assimilatinjj:  or 
connecting  medium,  —  as  w^ould  be  the  case  with  the  iris,  were 
the  green  to  be  withdrawn.  Here  there  would  be  breadth  pro- 
duced by  an  extension  of  congenial  colors,  the  red  and  yellow, 
(hot  colors)  being  in  a  mass  ou  one  side  of  the  green,  and  the 
blue,  violet,  and  imrple  {cold  colors)  on  the  other  side.  Insert, 
however,  between  the  two  the  green  (a  color  compounded  of 
yellow,  a  warm  color,  and  bliie^  a  cold),  and  the  harmony  is  com- 
plete as  far  as  union  can  effect  it  through  a  compromising  me- 
dium. 

The  same  would  be  the  result  in  many  landscapes,  were  not 
the  cold  hues  of  the  sky  united  with  the  warm  tints  of  the  fore- 
ground, either  by  an  imperceptible  adjunct  composed  of  both,  — 
that  is,  by  the  green  of  the  middle  ground,  —  or  by  a  transfer  of  a 
portion  of  the  latter  to  the  former,  and  a  portion  of  the  former 
to  the  latter,  as  illustrated  in  one  of  Titian's  best  paintings, 
called  "  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,"  representing  the  god,  as  Charles 
Lamb  has  it,  *^on  his  return  from  a  sacrifice,  with  his  reeling 
satyr  rout  about  him,  encountering  Ariadne,  the  beautiful  and 
forsaken  daughter  of  a  Cretan  king,  pacing  the  solitary  shore, 
in  as  much  heart  silence  as  when  she  awoke  at  break  of  day  to 
catch  the  forlorn  last  gh\nce  of  the  sail  that  bore  away  her 
Theseus." 

Re^'nolds,  in  his  admirable  criticism  on  this  painting,  says  : 
"If  we  suppose  two  tints  or  bits  of  color  omitted,  namely, 
the  red  scarf  of  Ariadne  in  the  upper  and  colder  portion  of 
the  picture  and  a  blue  drapery  on  the  shoulders  of  a  n;yTTiph 
in  the  low^er  and  warmer  portion,  it  would  leave  the  compo- 
sition divided  into  two  masses  of  color, — the  one  hot  and  the 


96  COLOE. 

other  cold,  —  the  warm  portion  comprehending  the  reds,  yellows, 
and  broivns  of  the  foreground,  and  the  cold  portion  comprehending 
the  Hues,  greens,  and  grays  of  the  trees  and  sky ;  and  this,  as  in 
the  rainbow  with  the  green  omitted,  would  be  productive  of  great 
breadth,  but  it  would  be  destructive  of  union,  and  consequently 
of  liarmony,  for  it  leaves  the  cold  and  warm  colors  as  entirely 
unconnected  as  though  they  were  separate  designs  on  one  can- 
vas. To  correct  this  and  restore  the  union,  Titian  has  carried 
up  the  warm  tints  of  the  foreground  into  the  sky,  or  cold  por- 
tion of  the  picture,  by  means  of  the  red  scarf  on  the  shoulders 
of  Ariadne,  and  brought  down  the  cold  tints  of  the  sky  into  the 
foreground  by  the  blue  mantle  on  the  shoulders  of  the  nymph 
in  the  lower  or  warm  portion  of  the  picture;  and  thus,  by  di- 
viding the  painting  into  masses  of  loarm  and  cold  colors,  has 
preserved  the  greatest  hreadth,  by  the  ojyposition  of  warm  and 
cold  colors  has  increased  their  splendor,  by  exchanging  those 
of  one  side  for  those  of  another,  as  just  stated,  has  produced 
union  and  harmony,  and  at  the  same  time  preserved  that 
variety  so  characteristic  of  Nature's  coloring.  Nor  is  this 
all ;  for  by  a  faithful  imitation  of  those  reflections  which  one 
object  throws  off  upon  another  in  its  immediate  neighborhood, 
and  by  that  balance  of  light  and  dark  colors  which  gives  poise 
and  symmetry,  and  that  tone,  produced  by  passing  a  thin  trans- 
parent color  over  the  entire  surface  (a  process  called  glazing), 
assimilating  and  softening  down  the  most  opjDosite  tints  to 

"  Tones  so  just,  in  such  gradation  thrown, 
Adopting  Nature  claims  the  work  her  own," 

he  has  combined  in  one  design  all  those  excellent  qualities  upon 
which  depends  perfection  in  this  part  of  art. 

Continuity  is  another  feature  of  good  coloring  but  rarely  if 
ever  noticed  by  wi'iters,  although  it  has  great  value  in  pro- 
moting harmony  and  union,  besides  being  productive  of  great 
breadth ;  as  when  a  particular  color  is  found  to  vibrate,  as  it 
were,  along  a  chord,  terminating  in  the  gentle  echo  of  such 
color,  —  a  pure  white,  for  instance,  eventually  finding  repose  in 
a  deep  black,  or  a  pale  yellow  terminating  in  a  deep  brown ; 
just  as  breadth,  or  expansiveness,  or  extension  of  composition  and 


COLOR.  97 

fonn  is  obtained,  as  in  one  of  the  Cartoons,  where  the  form  of 
the  dying  Ananias  is  alHed  by  resemblance  to  those  on  each  side 
of  him,  those  in  front  being  varied  in  degree  until,  as  they  become 
distant  from  him  in  the  group,  it  is  lost  in  the  almost  up- 
right lines  of  the  man  and  woman  receiving  alms ;  and  again 
as  breadth,  or  extension,  of  expression  is  obtained,  in  the  same 
Cartoon,  where  the  terror  and  alarm  of  the  principal  figure 
(Ananias)  are  communicated  to  the  figure  in  its  immediate 
neighborhood,  and  are  continued  to  the  figures  nearest  to 
that,  but  with  a  numerically  diminished  force,  until  they 
are  finally  lost  on  either  side  in  utter  ignorance  and  indiffer- 
ence. 

There  is  no  gi'eater  excellence  in  a  picture  than  breadth,  —  in 
fact,  no  painting  has  much  value  without  it ;  for  without  breadth 
of  form  there  can  be  no  grandeur,  without  breadth  of  expression 
no  nobleness,  -^-ithout  breadth  of  light  and  shadow  no  picturesqiie 
effect,  and  without  breadth  of  color  no  repose. 

In  discoursing  of  composition  and  chiaro-oscuro,  it  was  stated 
that  these  should  be  in  accordance  with,  and  co-operate  to  give 
value  and  advantage  to,  that  expression  which  the  subject  ought 
to  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  spectator.  If  space  pennitted, 
we  would  recapitulate  the  substance  of  those  remarks,  but  as 
it  does  not,  it  might  help  to  a  better  understanding  of  what 
follows  if  reference  were  made  to  them  by  the  reader ;  it  would 
then  be  seen,  that,  if  the  p)oetic  arrangement  there  insisted 
upon  was  necessary  and  proper  in  those  two  constituent  por- 
tions of  the  art,  the  same  sensibility  that  can  regulate  the  dis- 
position  of  the  forms  and  p)lacing  of  the  several  objects  in  the 
composition,  and  the  mode  and  degree  of  light  and  dark  adapted 
to  the  subject,  whether  gay,  majestic,  or  melancholy,  quiet  or 
animated,  must  also  direct  and  govern  in  the  choice  of  hue  and 
color  which  predominate  through  those  forms  and  darks  and 
lights,  without  injuring  the  local  tints  peculiar  to  the  situation 
and  color  of  the  several  objects. 

But  the  propriety  of  adapting  the  color  to  the  sentiment  of 
the  subject  must,  we  apprehend,  be  verv  apparent ;  for  it  can 
require  no  argument  to  show  how  abhorrent  it  would  be  to  our 
7 


88  COLOR. 

feelings  to  see  the  terrors  of  "  The  Crucifixiou "  lost  in  the 
magnificent  glitter  of  a  triumphal  show,  or  the  pathetic  senti- 
ment of  "  The  Last  Supper  "  or  the  touching  tenderness  of  "  The 
Nativity"  disturbed  by  the  gaudy  trappings  and  resi)lendent 
illumination  of  a  Bacchanalian  feast. 

To  harmonize  the  tone  and  color  of  a  picture  with  the  sen- 
timent is,  doubtless,  one  of  the  most  difficult,  as  it  is  one  of 
the  most  imiDortant,  pai'ts  of  the  art;  but  the  power  of  color 
in  conveying  sentiment  has  been  illustrated  in  a  variety  of 
examples,  from  the  murky  sky  that  envelops  "  The  Murder  of 
Abel,"  by  Titian,  where  all  positive  colors  are  kept  out  of  the 
picture,  down  to  "  The  Tragic  Muse,"  by  Keynolds,  ^vhere  the 
pale  and  sad  colors  are  illuminated  only  by  the  yellow  glare  of 
the  lightning. 

This  union  of  color  w^ith  sentiment  was  again  attained  by 
Poussin  in  his  picture  of  "  The  Deluge,"  in  which  "  by  employ- 
ing little  brilliancy  of  tint,  but  rendering  the  whole  with  little 
variation  of  a  sombre  gray,  —  the  true  resemblance  of  a  dark  and 
humid  atmosphere,  by  which  everything  is  rendered  indistinct 
and  colorless,  —  he  has  not  only  presented  a  faithful,  but  also 
a  poetic,  conception  of  the  subject ;  for  the  effect  is  not  only 
pathetic,  solemn,  simple,  and  grand,  but  Nature  seems  faint, 
half  dissolved,  and  verging  on  annihilation." 

The  same  correspondence  between  the  sentiment  and  the 
subject  is  sometimes  to  be  seen  in  Rubens,  as  in  his  painting 
of  "  The  Fall  of  the  Damned,"  in  which  he  has  represented  the 
abode  of  the  blessed,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  composition,  in 
all  the  j^early  tender  tints  of  the  morning,  whilst  the  lower 
pai-t,  the  abode  of  the  wicked,  is  lighted  up  by  the  red  glare  of 
the  fiery  gulf,  into  which  they  are  tumbling.  But  it  was  lost 
sight  of  in  his  otherwise  great  design,  "  The  Descent  from  the 
Cross  " ;  for,  although  nothing  can  be  more  agTceable  than  the 
flow  of  line  in  that  painting,  its  variety,  its  fulntss,  and  its 
effective  unitij,  2^''^oductive  of  one  end,  which  renders  it  one  of 
the  masterpieces  of  the  art,  yet  the  richness  of  the  effect  upon 
the  eye  absorbs  too  large  a  share  of  the  attention  due  to  the 
solemn  and  overwhelming  subject.     A  lower  and  lurid  tone  of 


COLOR.  99 

illumination,  it  is  thought,  might  have  overpowered  this  rich 
flow  of  line  and  color,  and  strengthened  its  due  influence  upon 
the  mind. 

Although  the  principal  aim  of  the  Venetian  masters  was  to  fill 
the  canvas  agreeably,  and  the  subject  is  often  lost  sight  of  in  the 
medium,  rather  than  assisted  by  it,  —  and  this  is  particularly  the 
case  in  the  works  of  Tintoretto  and  Paul  Veronese, — yet  there  is 
one  picture  by  the  former  that  is  a  remarkable  exception  to  this, 
namely,  "  The  Crucifixion,"  in  which  the  ominous,  terrific,  and 
ensanguined  hue  of  the  whole,  the  disastrous  twilight,  that  indi- 
cates more  than  mortal  suffering,  electrifies  the  spectator  at 
first  glance,  and  is  such  an  instance  of  the  powerful  application 
of  color  to  expression  as  has  never,  it  is  thought,  been  equalled, 
except,  perhaps,  by  Rembrandt,  in  the  bloodless,  heart-appalling 
hues  spread  over  his  "  Belshazzar's  Vision  of  the  Handwriting 
on  the  Wall." 

But  it  is  not  necessary,  we  apprehend,  to  multij^ly  examples 
to  show  that  the  colors  of  a  picture  should  be  in  correspondence 
with  the  sentiment  of  the  sul3Ject,  should  be  an  echo  to  the 
sense ;  although  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  nor  uninstructive 
briefly  to  illustrate  its  propriety  by  the  analogies  of  music  and 
language,  —  for  these,  like  painting,  are  imitative  arts,  and  the 
latter  had  its  origin  in  the  endeavor  to  express  the  names  of 
things  by  sounds. 

We  know  that  the  force  and  perfection  of  language  depend 
upon  such  words  as  immediately  raise  the  ideas  iu  the  mind,  and 
those  will  more  immediately  have  that  eff'ect  where  there  is 
a  correspondence  between  the  soimd  of  the  word  and  the  senti- 
ment, as  is  well  exemplified  in  the  words  lightning  and  thunder,  — 
the  one  sharp  and  rapid,  the  other  slow  and  sonorous,  —  and 
again  where  it  is  said  in  reference  to  the  Almighty,  — 

"  It  is  he  who  commandeth  the  waters, 
The  glorious  God  who  maketh  the  thunder." 

It  is  not,  however,  to  the  words  employed,  that  the  e^itire 
influence  of  language  is  owing,  but  to  the  tones  in  which  it  is 
spoken;   for  we  know  there  is,   independent  of  words,  a  Ian- 


100  COLOR. 

guage  of  nature,  in  which  the  passions  are  universally  and  in- 
stinctively uttered. 

We  every  moment  observe  the  diiferent  modulations  of  the 
voice,  when  the  human  soul  makes  use  of  language  to  express 
its  emotions  and  sentiments.  "  Joy  is  wont  to  speak  in  clear 
luminous  sounds,  agony  bellows  forth  its  accents  from  the  in- 
most foldings  of  the  heart,  dismay  utters  quivering  and  inar- 
ticulate notes,  the  language  of  2^cission  flows  with  an  impetuous 
tide,  steady  contennplation  modulates  the  terrors  of  its  speech ; 
each  feeling  expresses  itself  in  a  tone  of  voice  distinct  from  that 
accentuation  arising  from  the  syntax  of  language,  —  we  do  not 
quarrel  in  the  same  tone  in  which  we  love^ 

Gardner,  in  his  admirable  production  called  "  The  Music  of 
Nature,"  tells  us  that  the  human  voice,  like  music,  has  three 
parts,  the  one  called  the  voce  de  petto,  or  the  voice  of  the 
breast,  the  common  voice,  and  the  voce  de  testa,  or  voice  of  the 
head.  He  points  out  the  place  in  the  human  structure  whence 
these  several  voices  proceed. 

The  de  petto  voice,  he  tells  us,  originates  low  down  in  the 
chest,  about  the  region  of  the  heart,  —  the  tones  of  which  are 
of  the  instinctive  nature,  and  are  the  most  passionate ;  they 
express  the  inmost  feelings,  and  are  termed  the  langiiage  of 
the  heart  because  they  spring  from  that  region  ;  the  sensations 
of  pity,  love,  and  regret  are  expressed  in  the  p)'^tto  voice.  Next 
above  this,  he  continues,  stands  or  proceeds  the  common  voice, 
and  next  to  that  the  testa  voice,  or  voice  of  the  head,  in  which 
higher  voice  are  expressed  rage,  joy,  and  exidtation. 

Now,  whoever  would  be  effective  in  language,  it  is  quite  ap- 
parent, must  adopt  these  tones,  as  did  the  preacher  we  some- 
where read  of,  who,  after  painting  in  the  alto  the  joys  of  the 
blessed,  descended  into  the  extreme  depths  of  the  ^;^«o  to  por- 
tray the  horrors  of  the  damned,  after  the  fashion  of  Eubens  in 
the  painting  just  now  described,  —  and  doubtless  the  preacher 
was  effectual ;  while  Mr.  Burke  is  said,  but,  we  think,  contrary 
to  the  evidence,  to  have  been  cold  and  unimpressive  in  his 
celebrated  speech  at  the  trial  of  Warren  Hastings,  from  his 
physical  inability  to  employ  the  deeper  tones  to  clothe  the  sub- 
lime images  of  his  fancy. 


COLOR.  101 

The  musical  composer  is  perfectly  aware  of  these  characteristic 
peculiarities  of  somid  in  the  human  voice,  and  he  is  successful 
in  moving  the  passions  only  as  he  imitates  them,  as  he  makes 
the  sound  an  echo  to  the  sense.  ^ 

Now  "the  eye  is  governed  by  precisely  the  same  rules  as  the 
ear,  —  gay  tints,  like  gay  sounds,  animate  ;  stern  and  deep-toned 
tints,  like  warlike  sounds  and  deep  bass,  rouse,  determine,  in- 
vigorate the  eye  ;  the  bland  soothe,  the  rosy  charm,  the  gray  and 
vernal  melt  like  a  sweet  melody ;  and  therefore  the  truly  poetic 
painter  —  taking  for  his  example  that  master  of  the  terrible,  Sal- 
vator  Rosa,  whose  rocks,  trees,  skies,  even  to  the  manner  of  hand- 
ling, have  the  same  wild  character  that  animates  his  ferocious 
bandits  —  considers  the  nature  of  his  subject,  whether  gTave 
or  gay,  tender  or  ferocious,  magnificent  or  melancholy,  charac- 
ter and  age,  time  and  place,  day  or  night,  a  prison  or  a  palace ; 
and  consequently  all  portions  of  the  art,  form,  composition, 
chiaro-oscuro,  and  color,  are  made  to  lend  their  joint  assistance, 
not  only  to  give  'a  local  habitation  and  a  name,'  but  likewise 
to  convey  sentiment  and  enforce  exj^ression," 

The  field  for  this  poetic  adaptation  is  not  equally  great  in 
all  classes  of  subjects.  There  are  very  many  objects  of  the 
pencil's  imitation  Avhose  only  charm  is  their  naturalness,  which 
address  themselves  only  to  the  eye,  to  the  curiosity  of  the 
spectator,  and  these  are  to  be  gi'atified.  Indeed,  the  sentiment 
in  such  cases  cannot  be  assisted,  because  no  sentiment  exists  to 
be  assisted ;  but  wherever  there  is  sentiment,  the  painter  who 
understands  his  art  selects  such  tones,  hues,  and  degrees  of 
color  as  correspond  to  the  sentiment  and  expression  of  his 
subject ;  he  makes  the  whole  an  echo  to  the  sense. 

Wherever  this  is  neglected,  as  was  the  case  with  some  of  the 
most  celebrated,  but  not  most  correct,  of  the  old  masters,  the 
painting  may  please  the  eye  by  its  gorgeousness  and  picturesque 
effect,  but  it  will  fail  to  exert  its  full  and  proper  influence  on 
the  mind  and  heart. 

We  might  easily  have  extended  our  remarks  upon  this  as 
upon  every  other  part  of  the  art,  and  made  a  practical  applica- 
tion of  them  to  dress  in  its  connection  with   character,  age. 


102  COLOR. 

occu23ation,  and  many  other  things  associated  with  our  daily 
life ;  but  such  connections  and  influences  will  probably  suggest 
themselves  to  the  thoughtful  without  any  labor  on  our  part, 
and  we  therefore  proceed  next  to  notice  some  popular  errors  in 
regard  to  art. 

In  strolling  along  a  gallery,  we  have  often  had  occasion  to 
observe  that  those  paintings  attract  a  great  deal  of  admiration 
that  have  great  relief,  that  is,  a  statue-like  appearance,  or,  in  the 
language  of  the  vulgar,  "  look  as  though  one  might  walk  round 
them." 

It  was  this  quality,  rather  than  an  exhibition  of  correct  senti- 
ment and  truthful  historical  delineation,  which  gave  so  much 
celebrity  to  Dubeuf 's  painting  of  what  was  called  "Adam  and 
Eve,"  exhibited  in  this  country  a  few  years  since ;  and  also  to 
another  by  the  Frenchman  David,  "  The  Death  of  Abel,"  upon 
exhibition  also  in  this  country  some  years  previous. 

Now,  although  to  the  uninitiated  there  may  be  something 
in  all  this  starting  from  the  canvas,  yet  no  extraordinary  skill 
is  required  to  accomplish  it,  nor  any  gTeat  merit  after  that, 
because  no  object  in  nature  is  to  the  eye  perfectly  detached 
from  all  surj:'ounding  objects,  but  unites  its  outline  more  or 
less  with  everything  around  it,  either  by  color,  by  light  and 
shade,  by  reflection  or  refraction. 

A  certain  degree  of  relief  is  necessary  to  detach  an  object  from 
the  background,  but  when  it  has  the  appearance  of  being  ^jx^r- 
fectli/  isolated,  like  a  sculptured  figure,  it  is  unnatural,  and  de- 
structive of  that  effect,  breadth,  and  fulness  of  manner  found  in 
perfection  in  the  works  of  Correggio,  and  which  is  produced  by 
means  directly  opposite,  —  by  melting  and  occasionally  losing  a 
portion  of  the  figures  in  the  background,  as  on  the  shadowed 
side  in  shadows  still  darker,  and  on  the  light  side  by  an  exten- 
sion of  the  light ;  whereas  this  peculiar  kind  of  relief  is  obtained 
by  separating  the  figure  from  the  ground,  either  by  light, 
shadow,  or  color. 

You  see  none  of  this  extraordinary  isolation  in  the  works  of 
good  colorists.  It  marked  the  infancy  of  the  art,  and  is  essen- 
tially  Gothic.       But  if  good    colored   pictures   are  not  distin- 


COLOR.  103 

guished  for  relief,  neither  are  tliev  for  glare.  "Glare,  or  taAvdri- 
ness,  is  always  the  first  feature  of  an  infant  and  savage  state. 
This  is  the  art  of  children,  it  is  the  art  of  the  Aborigines 
of  our  country,  and  was  the  taste  almost  to  the  time  of 
the  great  masters.  (Jlods  and  mothers  of  gods,  apostles  and 
martyrs,  attracted  devotion  according  to  the  more  or  less  gaudy 
coloring  in  which  the  artist  arrayed  them ;  even  Julius  II. 
wished  Michael  Angelo  had  added  to  the  majesty  of  the  Patri- 
archs by  the  use  of  gold  and  a  precious  stone  called  Icqns  lazuli" 

Now  although  fine  feathers  make  fine  birds,  fine  colors  do  not 
constitute  fine  coloring.  Indeed,  in  a  good  colored  picture  there 
is  very  little  positive  color,  — that  is,  pure  red,  yellow,  or  blue,  — 
but  all  is  very  much  subdued  to  a  degree  of  negativeness ;  and 
hence  the  reason  why  Allston's  paintings  never  show  to  the  best 
advantage  when  hung  in  galleries  by  the  side  of  the  glaring 
modern  productions.  He  once  sent  a  picture  to  the  English 
Royal  Exhibition  that  had  acquired  great  reputation  in  his 
studio,  but,  the  "  hanging  committee "  haying  assigned  it  a 
place  by  the  side  of  one  of  Sir  William  Beechey's  highly  col- 
ored paintings  of  officers  on  review-day,  all  merit  seemed  to  have 
been  taken  out  of  it,  and  it  faded  away  into  sickly  insipidity. 
AUston,  however,  was  not  ignorant  of  the  disease  it  had  con- 
tracted since  it  left  his  room,  nor  of  the  mode  of  cure ;  and  as 
the  artists  alw^ays  are  allowed  a  short  time  before  the  exhibition 
opens  to  make  any  amendments  that  the  neighboring  pictures 
suggest,  purchased  a  half-crown's  worth  of  j^ure  yellow^,  red,  and 
blue,  as  brilliant  as  the  sun  at  noonday,  and,  laying  them  on 
wath  lavish  liberality,  soon  brought  it  up  to  the  requirement  of 
the  gaudy  school,  and  it  worked  like  magic  upon  a  discrimi- 
nating jDublic  ;  but  when,  after  the  exhibition,  the  painting  was 
returned  to  his  studio,  it  appeared  to  have  contracted  another 
disease,  which  he,  supposing  that  it  might  have  been  caused  by 
the  poison  of  the  pafnt  he  put  on,  at  once  w^ashed  off  (it  being 
mixed  only  with  water),  and  it  soon  appeared  well  enough  to 
hold  companionship  in  the  gallery  of  some  English  nobleman 
by  the  side  of  some  of  the  good  pictures  of  the  old  masters. 

Another  defect  in  coloring  to  be  noticed  is  that  smooth  tea-   ^ 


104  COLOR. 

board  painting,  so  much  admired  by  the  masses,  and  generally 
passing  under  the  name  of  high  finish.  This  is  the  result  of 
too  great  a  blending  of  the  colors,  as  glare  is  of  their  being  used 
in  too  raw  a  state.  But  this,  instead  of  producing  the  effect  of 
softness,  gives  the  appearance  of  ivory,  or  some  other  hard  sub- 
stance, highly  polished. 

This  stjde  cannot  be  too  severely  reprobated.  It  was  a 
characteristic  of  the  French  school  about  thirty  years  since, 
and  perhaps  even  much  later.  It  characterized  the  first  style 
of  Raphael.  The  copy  in  the  Boston  Athengeum,  from  that 
masters  painting  called  "  La  Jardiniere,"  is  marked  by  this 
defect.  It  is  never  found  in  the  works  of  good  colorists.  In 
some  of  Rembrandt's  best-colored  pictures  the  paint  may  be 
seen  projecting  in  small  lumps  beyond  the  general  surface,  but 
it  is  all  right  at  the  proper  distance  ;  he  carried  the  practice  to 
excess,  and  is  not  a  model  for  any  one  who  has  not  his  skill  in 
handling.  The  impasted  manner  of  Correggio  is  a  much  more 
desirable  model,  and  the  only  way  in  which  to  secure  brilliancy. 

In  regard  to  no  part  of  the  art  does  there  exist  more  mis- 
taken notions  than  respecting  the  amount  of  detail  required  in 
a  well-finished  picture.  In  order  to  furnish  correct  information 
on  that  point,  it  is  proper  to  state  that  there  are  three  styles 
of  coloring  differing  widely  from  each  other,  —  one  where  every 
minute  particular  is  faithfully  drawn  out  on  the  canvas,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  landscape  painter  who  boasted  that,  like  the 
Pre-Raphaelite  of  the  present  day,  he  had  imitated  to  precision 
every  leaf,  every  pebble,  every  sjDire  of  grass,  indeed,  every 
object  in  nature,  one  by  one  ;  another,  and  the  opposite  of  this, 
where  only  the  broad  effect  is  given,  as  in  scenic,  panoramic 
painting,  and  the  like  ;  and  a  third  style,  intermediate,  and  a 
compromise  of  the  two,  where  the  detail  is  not  entirely  neg- 
lected, but  only  just  so  much  expressed  upon  the  canvas  as  is 
visible  at  the  distance  at  which  we  generaclly  view  an  object. 

The  first  of  these  modes  of  imitation — that  which  copies  every 
minute  particular  —  discovers  in  those  who  practise  it  an  igno- 
rance of  the  true  nature  of  the  art,  and  is  not  entitled  to  ad- 
miration, because  deception,  at  its  ultimate  pitch,  is  only  the 


COLOR.  105 

successful  mimicry  of  absent  objects,  — which  is  more  the  prov- 
ince of  sculpture  tlum  of  painting,  which  does  not  pretend  to 
give  the  image  for  the  thing,  but  only  those  main  characteristics 
of  form  and  color  by  which  objects  are  generally  known  and 
recogiiized,  that  is,  not  by  giving  simply  the  general  resem- 
blance in  a  manner  as  broad  as  in  scenic  painting,  but  by  trans- 
ferring to  the  canvas  so  many  of  the  particulars,  or  details,  as 
are  presented  to  the  eye  at  the  usual  distance  at  which  we 
view  an  object. 

''  Although  the  foliage  of  trees,"  says  Reynolds,  "  is  composed 
of  individual  leaves,  as  the  hair  of  the  head  of  individual  spires, 
yet  at  a  certain  distance  we  see  only  the  effects  of  these  par- 
ticulars, the  masses,  and  not  each  leaf  and  spire  itself;  and 
whoever  in  painting  gives  these  masses,  these  general  character- 
istics of  form  and  color,  will,  in  a  few  minutes,  give  a  truer  repre- 
sentation of  trees  or  hair  than  a  microscopic  painter,  like 
Gerard  Dow,  in  so  many  months.  It  may  be  remarked,  that 
the  impression  that  is  left  on  the  mind,  even  of  things  most 
familiar  to  us,  is  seldom  more  than  the  general  effect,  beyond 
Avhich  we  do  not  look  on  recognizing  such  objects. 

"  Painting,  it  should  be  remembered,  applies  itself  to  the 
imagination,  not  to  the  curiosity ;  works  not  for  the  naturalist, 
but  for  the  common  observer  of  life  and  nature.  The  artist  copies 
the  pictm-e  that  is  painted  on  the  retina,  and  not  the  object 
itself,  as  the  sculptor  does;  and  many  of  the  rays  of  light 
which  proceed  or  start  from  the  object,  and  by  which  more 
might  be  made  visible,  are  absorbed  before  they  reach  the  visual 
organ.  He  transfers  to  his  canvas  only  just  so  much  of  the 
picture  as  is  made  out  by  the  rays  that  reach  the  retina,  and 
that  is  sufficient  for  all  the  purposes  of  art ;  and  this  undoubtedly 
is  the  true  method  of  coloring,  nor  of  coloring  onl}^,  but  of  rep- 
resentation generally." 

The  great  productions  of  Raphael  and  Michael  Angelo  are 
not  at  all  distinguished  for  luxury  of  coloring,  or  any  very 
striking  effects  of  light  and  shadow.  These  remarks  apply  par- 
ticularly to  Michael  Angelo,  in  whose  paintings  you  find  little 
variety  of  tint,  or  richness  of  hues,  often  little  more  than  dead 


106  COLOR. 

coloring,  a  kind  of  reddish  iron-gray,  with  just  enough  of  the 
primitives  to  characterize  it  as  color;  and  it  is  thought  this 
simple  style  was  best  suited  for  the  embodiment  of  his  gigantic 
conceptions,  whose  elements  were  grandeur  and  sublimity. 
■  Now  the  basis  of  gTandeur  is  simplicity.  Everything  that  is 
gTand  in  nature  is  stamped  with  it ;  you  see  it  in  color,  in  the 
king  of  the  forest  and  thp  king  of  the  air.  The  lion  and  the 
eagle  have  no  variety  of  hide  and  plumage ;  variety  is  the  ele- 
ment of  beauty.  "  All  ornament  destroys  gTandeur,  as  all  ap- 
paratus destroys  terror.  The  seraglio  trappings  of  Rubens,  or  the 
soft  enchanting  tints  of  the  Venetian  masters,  would  have  anni- 
hilated the  prophets  and  sibyls  and  patriarchs  of  Michael  Angelo." 
One  moment's  reflection  will  show  how  at  variance  it  would  have 
been  with  the  sentiment  of  their  character  and  mission. 

Raphael's  art  admitted  of  more  positive  hues  than  that  of 
Michael  Angelo,  —  that  of  the  latter  was  epic,  of  the  former 
dramatic.  The  reds,  blues,  and  yellows  are  very  positive  in 
Raphael's  pictures,  and  especially  in  his  easel  paintings,  and 
therefore  they  have  not  that  harmony  and  union  which  results 
from  their  being  more  broken  and  transparent,  although  they 
strike  the  mind  more  forcibly  for  this  decision  of  color,  —  but 
this,  perhaps,  is  a  fault,  as  they  draw  the  attention  from  the  sub- 
ject almost  as  much  as  too  great  ornament ;  yet  we  would  not 
say  of  this  master,  as  cpuld  justly  be  said  of  Paul  Veronese,  that 
in  his  hands  a  Madonna  was  the  least  part  of  the  subject. 

But  we  do  not  mean  to  examine  and  analyze  the  style  of 
coloring  of  the  several  gi'eat  masters,  nor  is  it  necessary ;  for  al- 
though "  the  manner  of  Louis  Caracci  has  been  much  extolled 
for  its  solemnity  of  hue,  that  sober  Uvilicfht,  the  air  of  cloistered 
meditation,  which  makes  it  appropriate  for  the  representation  of 
religious  subjects  ;  and  the  aerial  silvery  lightness  of  Guido's  tints 
are  said  to  be  well  suited  for  the  portrayal  of  children,  angels, 
and  the  like  ;  the  clearness  and  transparency  of  Correggio  leave 
nothing  to  be  desired  in  those  particulars  ;  and  in  the  opinion  of 
some  nothing  can  surpass  the  gay  magnificence  of  Rubens  or  the 
splendid  refidgence  of  Rembrandt ;  —  yet  these  are  partial  excel- 
lences separately  possessed,  but  all  united  in  the  unsurpassed 


COLOR.  •  107 

productions  of  Titian."  It  is  therefore  to  liim  that  we  must  look 
for  an  exemphfication  of  all  the  principles  of  good  coloring  that 
we  have  now  been  endeavoring  to  make  intelligible. 

How  Titian  was  enabled  to  apply  these  principles  so  much 
better  than  others,  how  he  handled  his  brush  and  caused  to 
come  forth  from  beneath  its  magic  touch  those  splendid  effects, 
no  one  is  able  to  explain,  any  more  than  he  could  why  Liszt, 
using  the  same  instrument,  touching  the  same  keys,  and  follow- 
ing the  same  laws  of  music,  can  produce  tones  and  results  so 
much  surpassing  those  of  every  other  artist. 

Some  years  since,  I  was  informed  by  that  complete  gentleman 
and  accomplished  artist,  the  venerable  Mr.  Sully  of  Philadelphia, 
that,  many  years  previous,  a  girl  came  up  to  London,  professing 
to  have  found  out  Titian's  mode  of  coloring,  and  many  artists, 
among  them  Mr.  West,  paid  the  price  of  tuition,  received  the 
instruction,  and  earned  home  the  recipe  in  their  pockets,  but 
with  what  benefit  to  themselves  was  never  made  manifest  in  their 
after  productions.     The  woman  was  an  impostor. 

In  the  year  1835,  however,  an  artist  died  in  England  whose 
talent  as  a  colorist  had  not  up  to  that  time  been  surpassed 
by  anything  this  side  of  the  great  Venetian.  I  think  it  was 
in  the  year  1816  or  1819  that  he  left  the  United  States  to 
perfect  himself  in  his  chosen  profession  in  the  schools  of  Italy. 
Although  quite  young,  he  had  been  in  the  "Eternal  City"  but 
a  few  weeks,  when  Benvenuti,  then  President  of  the  Roman 
Academy  of  the  Fine  Arts,  sought  from  him  a  knowledge  of  his 
palette,  so  enamored  was  he  w4th  the  beauty  of  his  coloring.  Un- 
willins:  to  go  through  a  long  course  of  study  in  the  drawing- 
schools,  he  went  to  London,  where  his  later  and  constant  friends, 
Irving,  AUston,  and  Leslie,  had  preceded  him ;  the  latter  since 
1811  had  been  a  hard  student  in  the  Royal  Academy,  and  at  the 
same  time  successfully  practising  his  art  in  its  various  depart- 
ments. His  first  efforts  were  in  portraiture,  in  which  he  had 
made  much  progress  before  he  left  the  United  States ;  but 
Irving,  perceiving  in  him  a  rich  vein  of  humor,  suggested  his 
attempting  the  portrayal  of  "  Falstaff  in  the  Clothes-Basket,"  and 
his  success  in  painting  it  was  so  gi'eat  that  he  acquired  at  once 


108  COLOK. 

a  reputation  which  with  each  succeeding  effort  had  so  increased, 
that  for  several  3'ears,  before  disease  had  fastened  upon  his  brain, 
a  painting  by  Stuart  Nev/ton  from  Shakespeare,  or  Mohere,  or 
Cervantes,  or  Goldsmith,  found  a  readier  sale,  among  the  noblest 
patrons  of  the  art,  than  those  of  any  other  artist  in  England,  and 
at  prices  exceeding  those  paid  for  paintings  by  other  artists 
in  the  same  department,  containing  the  same  number  of 
figures.  No  artist  has  yet  appeared  in  England  (except  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  and  Sir  Benjamin  West)  who  has  held  a  higher 
social  position  than  Mr.  Newton ;  and  no  one  that  lived  before  or 
since,  as  far  as  I  know,  has  surpassed  him  in  his  department  of 
art,  or  could  dispute  his  claim  to  be  (up  to  the  time  of  his  de- 
cease) the  best  colorist  that  has  appeared  since  the  old  masters. 

As  a  student  with  Mr.  Newton  during  the  years  of  my  con- 
nection with  the  English  Royal  Academy,  I  speak  of  him  not 
without  knowledge  ;  and  I  the  more  readily  avail  myself  of  the 
occasion,  as  it  affords  an  opportunity  to  connect  the  old  art  with 
the  new,  and  leads  one  to  think  that  the  hope  of  a  restoration  is 
not  so  desperate  as  it  appeared  to  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  when 
he  declared  that  there  was  not  a  man  on  earth  that  had  the 
least  notion  of  coloring,  and  that  all  of  us  have  equally  to  seek 
for  and  find  it  out,  as  at  present  it  was  a  lost  art.  That  was 
what  Reynolds  then  thought,  and  he  did  try  to  find  it  out, 
and  is  said  to  have  scraped  to  destruction  some  fine  paintings  by 
Titian  in  pursuit  of  the  lost  treasure.  Not  that  he  absolutely 
needed  it  himself,  for  he  had  vast  wealth  of  his  own  ;  but  he  did 
not  find  it,  and  for  the  same  reason  that  the  frequent  seekers 
for  it  did  not  find  the  sunken  treasure  of  the  pirate  Kidd,  name- 
ly, that  they  had  not  discovered  the  j)lace  where  it  was  buried. 

Instead  of  looking  into  the  canvas,  Reynolds  should  have 
looked  into  the  mind  and  soul  of  Titian. 

The  Almighty  sometimes  repeats  himself;  that  is,  at  remote 
intervals  and  for  special  purposes  re-creates  the  same  great  mind. 
Titian  may  have  been  a  reproduction  of  Apelles.  When,  there- 
fore, there  shall  have  been  a  perfect  reproduction  of  Titian  (I  say 
a  perfect  reproduction,  for  nature  has  sometimes  been  partially 
successful),  the  secret  will  have  been  once  more  revealed  of 


COLOR.  109 

Titian's  most  perfect  mode  of  coloring.  Until  then,  however, 
whoever  expects  that  by  scraping  and  description  a  recipe  can 
be  furnished  by  which  an  artist  will  be  enabled  to  color  like 
Titian  may  also  expect  that  one  can  be  given  by  which  to 
sculpture  like  Phidias,  compose  like  Handel  or  Haydn,  or 
write  like  Shakespeare. 


ESSAY    VIII. 

DA   VINCI,    MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND   RAPHAEL. 

"  A  T  no  period  of  the  world's  history,"  says  the  historian, 
-^^^^  "has  the  human  mind  displayed  more  wonderful  ener- 
gies than  during  the  last  part  of  the  fifteenth  and  the  first  half 
of  the  sixteenth  century ;  and  in  no  field  of  intellectual  exertion 
is  this  more  apparent  than  in  that  of  the  Fine  Arts,  especially 
painting. 

"As  no  prodigious  development  of  moral  and  intellectual  re- 
sources is  independent  of  discoverable  causes  and  successive 
stages  of  preparation,  the  traces  of  such  preparatory  steps  are 
in  this  case  to  be  found  in  the  state  of  religion,  of  literature, 
of  commerce,  and  of  the  active  concerns  of  life. 

"  This  was  a  period  most  fortunate  for  the  art  of  painting, 
whether  we  regard  the  external  advantages  of  the  time,  in  the 
progress  of  discovery  and  accessory  knowledge,  and  in  the 
eager  patronage  of  the  powerful  and  enlightened,  or  its  inter- 
nal, in  the  accumulated  experience  of  many  generations,  which 
left  instructive  traces  of  its  progress,  —  the  combination  of 
genius  with  the  purest  taste,  and  the  connection  of  a  thorough 
mastery  over  the  resources  of  the  art  with  a  sobriety  and  tem- 
perance which  forbade  their  abuse." 

It  was  at  this  period  that  those  five  gi'eat  masters  appeared 
whose  characteristic  features  and  vast  improvements  will  form 
the  subject  of  the  present  and  following  Essay,  —  Leonardo  da 
Vinci,  Michael  Angelo  BuonaiToti,  Raphael  Sanzio  d'  Urbino,  Tizi- 
ano  Vecellio,  and  Antonio  AllegTi,  commonly  called  Correggio. 

In  the  city  of  Florence  at  the  commencement  of  the  four- 
teenth century  died  Cimabue,  commonly  considered  the  father 
of  modern  painting.     He  was  succeeded  by  the  shepherd  boy. 


DA    VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND    KAPIIAEL.  Ill 

Giotto,  whose  improved  style  became  the  model  of  the  times 
which  ensued,  till  the  appeanmce  of  Masaccio,  who  a  hundred 
years  later  carried  the  art  far  beyond  the  point  it  had  previously 
attained. 

Masaccio's  reputation  remained  in  its  turn  without  a  rival 
down  to  the  period  of  Leonardo  da  Yinci,  whose  exquisite  works 
appear  as  the  connecting  link  between  the  old  and  the  new  and 
more  perfect  style, — a  style  which  reached  its  culminating  point 
in  the  productions  of  those  great  painters  whose  names  we  have 
mentioned. 

Sir  Joshua  Re^aiolds,  in  classing  the  great  masters  of  painting, 
places  Giulio  Romano  next  to  Raphael  and  Michael  Angclo,  — 
Michael  Angelo  first,  for  the  grandeur  and  sublimity  of  his  char- 
acters and  his  profound  knowledge  of  design ;  Raphael  second, 
for  the  judicious  arrangement  of  his  materials,  and  for  the  grace, 
dignity,  and  expression  of  his  characters  ;  and  Giulio  Romano 
third,  for  possessing  the  true  poetical  genius  of  painting  in  a 
higher  degi'ee  than  any  other  artist,  and  he  may  be  entitled  to 
take  precedence  of  Titian  and  Correggio  in  that  particular.  As 
we  are  now  to  consider  the  merits  of  those  who  founded  the 
art,  not  of  those  who  followed  in  the  footsteps  of  others  and 
merely  applied  the  principles  they  discovered,  we  shall  speak  of 
them  as  entitled  to  the  rank  usually  assigned  them,  and,  follow- 
ing the  order  of  enumeration,  invite  the  attention  first  to  a 
brief  examination  of  the  comparative  merits  and  improvements 
made  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci ;  and  as  our  object  is  the  illustra- 
tion of  principles,  we  shall  devote  no  more  time  to  their  per- 
sonal history  than  is  absolutely  necessary  to  convey  a  distinct 
idea  of  their  style  and  improvements. 

DA  VIXCI. 

No  artist  probably  is  better  known  to  the  public  generally 
than  the  painter  of  "  The  Last  Supper,"  and  that  through  the 
celebrated  engraving,  originally  got  up  in  the  best  style  of  art, 
and  since  copied  with  greater  industry  and  more  extensively 
circulated  than  any  other  of  the  productions  of  the  old  masters, 
and  yet,  were  we  to  ask  any  one  to  point  out  the  painting  that 


112  DA   VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND    RAPHAEL. 

best  illustrated  the  perfection  of  the  art,  I  know  not  that  we 
should  be  directed  to  the  principal  attraction  of  the  city  of 
Milan;  but  were  we  to  require  of  any  one  to  designate  the 
painting  that  had  most  powerfully  impressed  the  feelings  and 
gained  the  strongest  hold  of  the  affections  of  the  entire  Christian 
world,  we  should  undoubtedly  be  told  that  it  was  the  delineation 
of  the  sacred  feast  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 

Da  Vinci  was  bom  in  Florence  in  1452.  His  biogTapher  tells 
us  he  was  intended  by  his  father  for  a  merchant ;  his  parents  thus 
appropriating  him  in  advance,  as  most  parents  now  do,  to  a  pro- 
fession for  which  his  son  had  then  manifested,  perhaps,  no  sym- 
pathy or  aptness.  He  was  wiser,  however,  than  most  fathers,  for 
he  did  not  persist  in  thwarting  nature's  intentions ;  observing  in 
his  son  an  irrepressible  love  for  art,  he  placed  him  (very  reluc- 
tantly, of  course)  under  the  instruction  of  Verrocchio,  the  inventor 
of  linear  perspective,  a  sculptor,  and,  with  the  versatility  of  the 
age,  likewise  a  goldsmith  and  a  painter. 

There  is  a  great  deal  that  is  curious  and  interesting  in  the 
general  history  of  Da  Vinci,  given  by  his  biographer;  but  as  our 
business  is  to  point  out  the  influence  he  exerted  upon  the  growth 
of  art,  suffice  it  to  say  that  after  practising  his  profession  with 
slow  but  certain  success  in  various  cities  of  Italy,  he  visited 
France  by  invitation  of  Francis  L,  and  died  at  Clou,  May  2, 
1519,  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven. 

It  is  generally  conceded  that  Da  Vinci  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  personages  whose  name  is  recorded  in  history,  a 
man  of  the  most  varied  acquirements,  and  a  proficient  in  all,  — 
poet,  painter,  sculptor,  musician,  anatomist,  architect,  engineer, 
chemist,  machinist,  and  man  of  science ;  he  was  not  only  con- 
sidered one  of  the  best  of  painters,  but  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished individuals  of  the  nge  he  lived  in. 

It  was  this  universality  of  talent  that  excited  much  of  the 
ridicule  of  Michael  Angelo's  biographer,  who  calls  him  "  a  Jack 
at  all  trades,  and  master  at  none." 

Ridicule,  however,  is  not  argument,  and  the  epithet  was  not 
justly  applied  to  one  in  whose  mind  was  concentrated  all  the 
learning  of  the  centuries  that  preceded  him,  and  who  illumined 


DA  VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND   RAPHAEL.  llo 

the  way,  and  pointed  out  the  path  to  all  the  improvements  in 
art  and  science  that  have  been  made  by  succeeding  generations. 

Those  who  wish  to  know  his  position  as  a  philosopher  may 
find  it  admirably  delineated  by  Mr.  Hallam,  in  his  '*  History  of 
the  Middle  Ages."  Our  purpose  is  to  consider  him  as  a  painter, 
and,  fortunately,  in  this  resj^ect  works  speak  louder  than  words, 
and  they  show,  in  the  opinion  of  competent  judges,  that  the  rank 
of  Da  Vinci  is  not  only  among  the  fathers,  but  among  the  found- 
ers, of  the  art;  that  he  is  to  be  considered  not  only  as  one  who 
preceded,  but  excelled,  and  whose  excellence  was  well  appreciated 
by  those  who  came  after  him.  "His  chiaro-oscuro  is  to  be  traced 
in  the  magic  and  force  of  Correggio  and  Giorgione  ;  his  delicate 
and  accurate  delineation  of  character,  his  color,  and  his  sweet- 
ness of  expression,  reappear  in  Raphael ;  while  in  anatomical 
knowledge  and  energetic  expression  he  is  the  real  precursor  of 
Michael  Angelo." 

That  he  obtained  power  over  the  most  complicated  compo- 
sition is  evinced  in  his  celebrated  group  of  horsemen,  in  the 
cartoon  of  "  The  Battle  of  the  Standard."  "  The  Last  Supper  " 
exhibited  a  propriety  of  expression  and  coiTectness  of  drawing 
at  the  time  unapproached,  and,  if  seen  as  originally  finished, 
probably  unsurpassed. 

Da  Vinci  was  inferior  to  Michael  Angelo  in  gi-andeur,  boldness 
of  conception,  and  drawing  of  the  figure  ;  but  he  was  superior  to 
him  in  all  the  amiable  parts  of  the  art.  Make  the  entire  range 
of  painting,  and  you  will  not  easily  find  anything  that  in  profound- 
ness of  feeling  and  sweetness  of  expression  is  superior  to  the  de- 
lineation of  Christ  and  the  beloved  disciple  in  "The  Last  Supper." 

But  the  influence  of  this  painter  extends  much  farther  than 
the  sphere  of  individual  example.  Although  Signorelli,  his  con- 
temporary, by  entering  the  world  of  imagination  (in  the  first 
purely  imaginative  picture,  "  The  Resurrection  of  the  Dead  "), 
had  extended  the  field  of  art,  Da  Vinci  added  a  novel  and  impor- 
tant feature  to  its  technical  department,  —  the  science  of  chi- 
aro-oscuro in  its  most  serious  character,  that  which  is  selected 
and  composed  to  exhibit  individual  objects  to  advantage,  by 
massing  the  lights  and  shadows. 


\ 


114  DA  VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND    EAPHAEL. 

This  arrangement  was  distinct  from  the  mere  natural  light 
and  shade  of  objects,  brought  to  perfection  by  Masaccio  ;  it 
consists  principally  in  the  selection  of  a  concentrated  light, 
and  consequently  a  larger  quantity  of  shade,  such  as  is  produced 
by  lamplight,  and  the  union  of  those  shades  with  the  ground  of 
relief. 

Before  the  time  of  this  artist,  the  fig-ures  had  the  appear- 
ance, generally,  of  being  inlaid,  or  pasted  on  the  background  ;  the 
background  being  not  unfrequently  gilded,  or  of  an  entire  light 
blue  or  green  color,  without  the  slightest  gradation  or  variation 
of  tint,  the  figure  telling  equally  strong  on  all  parts  of  the  can- 
vas, in  manner  not  unlike  the  drawings  on  our  common  playing- 
cards,  and  consequently  meagre  to  an  extreme  degree,  and  with- 
out breadth  and  picturesque  effect. 

To  remedy  these  defects,  Da  Vinci  made  the  ground  to  par- 
take more  or  less  of  the  color  of  the  principal  objects,  —  some- 
times light  in  order  to  extend  the  light,  and  sometimes  dark  in 
order  to  extend  the  dark,  or  shadow,  with  but  few  cutting  out- 
lines. This  improvement,  it  is  true,  was  upon  a  confined  scale, 
but  it  was  the  basis  of  that  extension,  and  consequent  breadth 
of  light  and  dark,  and  effect,  that  gave  it  its  ultimate  perfection 
in  the  works  of  Correggio  and  Rembrandt. 

If  to  these  improvements  in  chiaro-oscuro  made  by  Da  Vinci 
be  added  the  complete  union  he  effected  between  painting  and 
the  science  of  anatomy,  and  both  with  nature,  it  may  justly  be 
said  that  he  "  prepared  the  way  "  for  the  coming  greatness  of 
Michael  Angelo. 

MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

If  we  were  so  disposed,  we  could  not  dwell  long  upon  the  his- 
tory of  the  early  growth  of  this  Colossus  of  the  arts,  for,  as  far  as 
his  professional  labors  are  concerned,  "  he  appears  to  have  had 
none ;  his  first  efforts  being  fully  as  successful  as  those  of  his 
later  manhood." 

As  Michael  Angelo,  however,  was  born  like  other  men,  he  had 
an  infancy,  lived  his  allotted  time,  and  died ;  but,  unlike  most 
men,  his  works  do  not  follow  him,  for  they  live,  and  will  forever 
live,  in  the  influence  they  have  had  upon  art  and  the  minds  and 


DA   YINXI,   MICHAEL  ANGELO,   AND    RAPHAEL.  115 

imagination  of  men,  beyond  those  of  any  artist  that  ever  existed, 
not  exeepting  even  Raphael  himself. 

"Whether  Michael  Angelo  was  or  was  not  a  greater  artist  than 
Raphael  is  another  qnestion,  more  properly  to  be  considered  in 
another  portion  of  this  discourse.  That  he  was  more  original 
and  a  greater  genius  is  conceded,  and  his  influence  is  vast  and 
overpowering. 

He  was  born  in  Florence,  of  a  noble  family,  March  6,  1474, 
twenty-three  years  after  Da  Vinci,  nine  before  Raphael,  six  before 
Titian,  and  twenty  before  Correggio,  thus  making  him  the  pre- 
cursor of  all  the  greatest  ornaments  of  the  art  save  Da  Vinci,  all 
of  them  living  and  at  work  during  the  same  quarter  of  a  century. 

His  first  instructor  w^as  Ghirlandaio,  then  somewhat  eminent  as 
a  sculptor  and  a  painter,  and  who  added  one  important  improve- 
ment to  the  art,  namely,  aerial  perspective,  as  the  master  of  Da 
Vinci  added  linear  perspective ;  so  that  the  first  tutor  of  each  was 
an  inventor,  —  a  genius,  in  the  loftiest  signification  of  the  term. 

The  first  patron  of  Michael  Angelo  and  of  all  art  was  a  mer- 
chant prince,  who  has  exercised  almost  as  much  influence  over 
the  art  (although  in  a  diff'erent  w-ay)  as  Michael  Angelo  him- 
self, —  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  the  most  distinguished  nobleman 
among  the  great  families  of  Italy.  He  died,  however,  when 
Michael  Angelo  was  only  twenty-two  years  of  age,  in  1496. 

On  the  death  of  his  patron,  Michael  Angelo  left  Florence  for 
Rome,  by  invitation  of  the  Cardinal  St.  Georgio,  and  while  there 
executed  for  the  churches  several  statues,  and  among  them  "  The 
Dead  Christ,"  which  at  once  established  his  character  as  a  sculjo- 
tor.  He  remained  in  Rome  at  this  time  only  about  a  year,  when 
he  returned  to  Florence  and  was  for  some  time  in  the  employ  of 
the  city,  though  he  found  time  to  design  the  cartoon,  so  famed, 
called  "  The  Battle  of  Pisa,"  representing  groups  of  soldiers 
roused  by  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  from  their  bathing  in  the 
river  Amo,  and  rushing  to  arms,  —  a  work  that,  it  is  thought, 
has  had  more  influence  upon  art  in  the  right  direction  than  all 
other  productions  united.  It  was  in  competition  w^ith  this  de- 
sign that  Da  Vinci  executed  "  The  Battle  of  the  Standard," 
referred  to  in  the  notice  of  that  artist.   It  was  about  this  period, 


116  DA   VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND   RAPHAEL. 

that  he  sculptured  those  magnificent  statues  called  '*  Day " 
and  "Night "  upon  the  tomb  of  the  Medici  family,  and  of  which 
plaster  casts,  of  the  size  of  the  originals,  are  to  be  seen  in  the 
statue  gallery  of  the  Boston  Athenaeum. 

When  Julius  II.  ascended  the  Papal  chair,  about  the  year 
1503,  he  invited  Michael  Angelo,  then  twenty-nine  years  of  age, 
to  the  capital,  to  erect  for  him  a  tomb  that  should  surpass  in 
splendor  anything  that  had  hitherto  been  done  by  man.  There 
are  descriptions  to  be  found  in  the  books  of  the  first  magnifi- 
cent conception  of  this  monument,  but  w^e  have  not  space  to 
give  it,  as  it  was  never  finished  according  to  the  original  design, 
—  for,  instead  of  forty,  it  is  now  adorned  wath  but  seven  statues, 
and  only  three  of  them  by  Michael  Angelo ;  but  one  of  them, 
and  that  the  centre  figure,  is  the  celebrated  "  Moses,"  —  a  w^ork 
of  unsurpassed  grandeur,  and  exhibiting  almost  as  miraculous 
a  powder  over  the  marble  as  that  displayed  by  the  prophet  him- 
self when  he  smote  the  rock  in  the  wilderness,  and  the  waters 
gushed  forth. 

While  Michael  Angelo  "was  engaged  on  this  gorgeous  produc- 
tion, it  was  suggested  to  the  Pope  by  San  Gallo,  an  architect, 
that  he  had  no  building  of  corresponding  grandeur  to  place  it 
in.  Accordingly  the  present  structure  of  St.  Peter's  was  re- 
solved upon.  Several  plans  were  sent  in,  but  Bramante  proved 
the  successful  competitor.  His  conceptions  w^ere,  however,  like 
the  first  conceptions  of  the  monument,  too  grand  for  execution. 
Had  they  been  carried  out,  it  would  have  required  the  contri- 
butions of  the  world  for  their  realization.  They  were  modified, 
and  the  work  was  proceeded  with,  and  in  the  process  of  time, 
a  period  of  many  years,  the  whole  was  completed.  The  dome 
was  the  work  of  Michael  Angelo,  who  also  made  other  impor- 
tant additions  and  alterations ;  but  w^e  have  not  space  to  dis- 
criminate. 

While  Bramante  was  engaged  upon  St.  Peter's,  and  Michael 
Angelo  on  the  monument,  the  architect,  becoming  jealous  of  the 
admiration  bestowed  by  the  Pope  upon  the  sculptor,  and  instil- 
ling into  the  former  the  dread  of  building  his  own  monument, 
suggested  that  the  latter  should  be  employed  in  painting  the 


DA   VINCI,   MICHAEL   ANGELO,   AND    RAPHAEL.  117 

walls  of  the  Sistiiie  Chapel,  then  just  made  ready  for  adorn- 
ment. Julius  adopted  the  suggestion,  and  a  stage  projjcr  for  the 
work  was  erected. 

At  this  time  Michael  Angelo  knew  comparatively  nothing  of 
fresco  painting,  or,  indeed,  of  any  kind  of  painting,  although  ji 
great  draughtsman ;  having  pursued  drawing  little  further  than 
as  indispensably  connected  with  architecture  and  sculpture. 
The  present  business,  therefore,  was  not  one  that  he  would  have 
selected.  He  set  about  the  work,  however,  and,  having  com- 
pleted the  designs  in  a  series  of  cartoons,  he  endeavored  to 
have  these  painted  by  artists  brought  from  Florence.  On  trial, 
their  labors  proved  entirely  unsatisfactory,  and  he  dismissed 
them  in  almost  utter  hopelessness,  and,  shutting  himself  up  in 
the  chapel  with  a  resolution  to  depend  in  future  entirely  upon 
his  own  individual  powers,  at  length,  after  repeated  difficulties, 
achieved  with  his  own  hand  in  twenty-two  months  the  entire 
vault,  —  the  most  adventurous  undertaking  in  modern  art,  —  the 
whole  series  embracing  twenty  or  more  large  and  magnificent  de- 
signs, thus  named  :  The  Forming  of  the  World  from  Chaos  ;  the 
Creation  of  Adam  ;  the  Creation  of  Eve  ;  the  Eating  of  the  For- 
bidden Fruit ;  the  Expulsion  from  Paradise  ;  the  Deluge  ;  Xoah 
and  his  Sons ;  the  Brazen  Serpent ;  Mordecai  and  Haman  ; 
David  and  Goliath  ;  Judith  and  Holofernes ;  separate  figures  of 
the  prophets,  the  sibyls,  and  the  patriarchs ;  to  which  was  added, 
some  years  afterwards,  the  Last  Judgment,  —  a  fresco  painting 
fifty  feet  high  and  forty  broad,  and  containing  over  three  hun- 
dred figm-es  larger  than  life,  on  which  he  was  engaged  ten  years, 
more  or  less.  After  this,  jVIichael  Angelo  was  variously  em- 
ployed, sometimes  as  a  painter,  but  generally  as  an  architect  and 
sculptor,  to  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-five,  when,  like  a  shock 
of  corn  fit  for  the  reaper's  sickle,  this  patriarch  of  the  arts  was 
gathered  to  his  fathers. 

The  oil  paintings  of  Michael  Angelo  are  very  few,  that  is,  those 
which  were  painted  by  him,  for  there  were  many  that  he  designed 
which  were  colored  by  other  artists,  among  them  Daniel  de  Yol- 
terre's  ''  Descent  from  the  Cross,"  sometimes  reckoned  one  of  the 
three  best  oil  paintings  ever  executed ;   "  The  Transfiguration," 


/ 


118  DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND  KAPHAEL. 

by  Raphael,  and  "  The  Communion  of  St.  Jerome,"  by  Domeni- 
chino,  completing  the  number. 

There  are  those  who  say  that  he  never  painted  more  than  one 
figure  in  oil,  —  that  of  Lazarus  in  the  design  that  makes  one  of 
our  illustrations,  —  considering  fresco  painting  alone  worthy  of  a 
man,  but  oil  painting  fit  for  old  women. 

Many  oil  paintings  are  ascribed  to  Michael  Angelo  that  are 
undoubtedly  impositions.  Those  acquainted  with  his  stjde  can 
easily  detect  the  cheat ;  for  whether  in  sculpture,  architecture,  or 
painting,  in  oil  or  in  fresco,  the  true  works  of  this  great  artist 
are  all  characterized  by  a  peculiar  sublimity  of  conception,  gran- 
deur of  form,  breadth  of  manner,  energy,  and  expression. 

These  are  the  prominent  features  of  his  system,  and  the  extent 
to  which  he  has  carried  them  is  that  which  almost  entirely  sep- 
arates him  from  every  other  artist. 

As  these  are  terms  that  are  not  easily  comprehended  by  every 
one  when  applied  to  art,  we  will  offer  a  few  words  in  the  way  of 
explanation,  although  we  are  conscious  of  our  inability  satisfac- 
torily to  accomplish  it. 

"  Sublimity  of  conception  "  is  a  phrase  that  requires  less  ex- 
planation than  any  of  the  terms  employed  to  express  Michael 
Angelo's  characteristics,  as  the  same  idea  attaches  to  it  as  to  sub- 
limity in  writing ;  and  what  that  is  all  know  who  read  the  proph- 
ets' descriptions  of  the  Almighty,  and  other  similar  passages  in 
the  Sacred  Record. 

As  it  was  from  this  source  that  Michael  Angelo  generally  de- 
rived his  themes,  and  as  they  were  always  of  the  sublimest  char- 
acter, so  rarely  did  he  fail  to  render  them  in  a  manner  corre- 
sponding to  the  elevated  nature  of  his  subject ;  and  the  evidence 
of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  it  rarely  happens  that  one 
whose  tastes  are  highly  cultivated  can  contemplate  his  best  pro- 
ductions without  experiencing  that  elevation  of  the  mind  and 
feelings  which  comes  over  all  of  us  when  reading  the  finest  por- 
tion of  the  Prophets,  and  especially  their  descriptions  of  the 
Almighty. 

The  truly  sublime  in  letters  is  said  to  be  Hebrew  in  its  origin. 
The  sublime  in  painting  dates  from  Michael  Angelo. 


DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND   liAPHAEL.  liU 

And  here  perhaps  it  may  be  proper  to  remark,  before  proceed- 
ing to  analyze  the  next  characteristic  of  Michael  Angelo's  style, 
that  it  is  not  every  one  that  is  adequately  affected  by  a  view  of 
his  productions.  Reynolds  on  his  first  visit  to  the  Vatican  foiled 
to  relish  the  finest  works  even  of  Raphael.  However,  after  hav. 
ing  contemplated  them  for  a  while,  new  tastes  and  new  percep- 
tions began  to  dawn  upon  him,  and  convinced  him  that  he  had 
formed  a  false  opinion  of  the  perfection  of  his  art,  which  must 
be  corrected.  If,  then,  it  required  the  cultivation  of  his  higher 
powers  to  appreciate  Raphael,  who  was  a  purely  dramatic  painter, 
how  much  more  so  is  it  demanded  to  comprehend  the  gTeat  epic 
series  of  Michael  Angelo  1  Most  persons  at  first  prefer  Words- 
worth to  Milton  (or  the  ballad  to  the  epic  poem),  or  ballad-sing- 
ing to  the  great  oratorios  of  Handel  and  Haydn ;  but  that  is  no 
argument  against  the  superiority  of  Milton  or  Handel.  The  love 
for  the  higher  productions  in  the  Fine  Arts  is,  in  some  measure, 
an  acquired  taste. 

No  one  at  first  can  make  a  successful  drawing  from  the  antique 
statues ;  he  must,  by  looking  and  contemplation,  have  acquired 
a  portion  of  that  communicable  warmth  of  feeling  that  created 
the  original,  and,  when  he  has  thus  done,  he  can  accomplish 
that  which  was  the  object  of  his  endeavor.  So  one,  by  famil- 
iarity with  the  higher  works  of  art,  or  of  poetry  or  music,  be- 
comes susceptible  to  those  lofty  feelings  of  our  nature  which  are 
alone  brought  out  by  cultivation.  There  are  those  who  are  born 
with  a  larger  portion  of  this  higher  nature,  and  there  are  those 
again  who  have  little  of  it  and  cannot  acquire  more,  and  some- 
times lose  what  nature  originally  gave  them  by  false  education 
and  neglect.  Michael  Angelo  was  one  of  those  who,  like  the 
prophets  whom  he  delineated,  had  his  inspiration  from  above,  or 
he  never  could  have  painted  as  they  preached ;  and  he  was  as 
much  above  common  artists  as  they  were  above  the  Scril)es,  who 
merely  read  as  a  daily  duty  what  the  prophets  wrote  by  inspi- 
ration. 

Grandeur  of  form  was  another  characteristic  of  Michael  An- 
gelo's style,  —  indeed,  it  was  the  necessary  consequence  of  sub- 
limity of  conception  ;  they  are  as  intimately  connected  as  pro- 
priety of  thought  and  propriety  of  diction. 


120  DA  VINCI,   MICHAEL  ANGELO,   AND   RAPHAEL. 

In  Michael  Angelo,  grandeur  of  form  (but  we  do  not,  in  speak- 
ing of  this  characteristic,  confine  our  remarks  to  that  only)  was 
the  result  of  an  amplification  of  the  boundaries  or  contours  of 
the  human  form  beyond  what  we  ordinarily  observe  in  nature, 
as  in  the  "Jonah,"  the  "  Moses,"  the  "Jeremiah,"  and  some  of 
the  figures  of  "  The  Last  Judgment." 

In  their  outlines  it  will  be  seen  that  the  concave  and  the  con- 
vex predominate.  Those  w^ho  lay  great  stress  upon  particular 
lines  to  convey  j^articular  sentiments  tell  us  that  there  are  none 
which  have  a  greater  air  about  them ;  and  hence  the  reason  why 
in  architecture  vaulted  roofs  make  a  large  portion  of  those  build- 
ings, in  all  countries,  which  are  designed  for  pomp  and  magnifi- 
cence. 

"  The  fancy,"  says  Mr.  Addison,  in  the  Spectator,  "  is  infinitely 
more  struck  with  the  view  of  the  open  air  and  skies  when  it 
passes  through  an  arch  than  when  it  comes  through  a  square. 
"  There  certainly  can  be  nothing  grander  in  art  than  the  dome 
of  some  great  temple,  swelling  up  and  with  its  outline  spanning 
the  heavens  like  a  rainbow ;  and  the  glorious  circle  itself  is  no 
less  indebted  to  its  figure  for  its  magnificence  than  it  is  to  its 
colors  for  its  beauty." 

The  efi'ect  of  this  swell  of  line  is  to  give  fulness,  greatness,  to 
the  figure  and  the  general  forms  of  a  composition ;  not  the  mag- 
nitude, not  the  hugeness,  of  the  elephant,  but  the  noble,  liberal 
structure  of  the  lion  and  the  tiger,  — animals  that,  although  large 
and  muscular,  are  still  graceful,  but  not  elegant.  The  leopard 
is  beautiful,  elegant,  but  not  grand  ;  he  wants  that  large  and 
swelling  outline  that  distinguishes  the  lion  and  the  tiger.  His 
contours  are  too  varied,  and  glide  into  each  other  too  impercepti- 
bly, for  this  greatness  of  manner  that  we  have  been  describing, 
the  principal  characteristic  of  which  is  fewness  of  parts.  Sim- 
plicity is  the  element  of  grandeur ;  variety,  of  beauty.  The  Doric 
column  is  grand  ;  the  Corinthian  more  beautiful,  more  elegant. 

This  grandeur  of  form  in  Michael  Angelo's  best  productions 
was  not  confined  to  a  single  figure,  it  characterized  the  entire 
composition  ;  for  whether  it  consisted  of  few  or  many  objects, 
those  objects  act  in  masses,  and  the  outlines  of  those  masses. 


DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND  EAPIIAEL.  121 

like  the  outlines  of  the  single  figures,  are  large  and  flowing  ;  thus 
seeming  to  present  us  with  the  figure  of  the  ocean,  not  when  cut 
lip  into  a  thousand  little  surges,  but  when  throwing  up  its  mighty 
bosom  in  large  and  mountain  billow^s.  Whoever  has  seen  the 
ocean  after  a  storm  at  sea,  when  the  wind  has  ceased,  and  the 
under  swell  throws  up  its  waters  into  three  or  four  swelling  bil- 
lows, has  seen  grandeur  of  form  in  its  utmost  sublimity  ;  gran- 
deur of  movement  is  the  outline  of  that  same  sea  in  motion. 

This  majestic  grandeur  of  form  in  Michael  Angelo's  designs 
was  much  assisted  by  the  bold  attitudes  of  his  figures,  as  in 
"  The  Dream,"  "  Jonah,"  "  Moses,"  and  some  others  ;  their 
bosoms  always  swelling  with  some  mighty  sentiment,  the  pas- 
sion found  its  development  in  an  attitude  or  gesture  of  corre- 
sponding greatness. 

In  fact,  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  Michael  Angelo  to  do  any- 
thing in  a  small  way.  This  w^as  the  necessary  consequence  of 
the  epic  character  of  his  subject,  which  deals  only  in  generals 
and  rejects  the  minute,  —  or,  if  the  minute  is  admitted,  makes  it 
but  the  elements  or  parts  of  a  whole  ;  but  the  petite,  or  little, 
is  never  to  be  seen  in  the  productions  of  this  master,  —  all  is 
liberal,  expansive,  and  consequently  his  works  are  characterized 
by  great  "  breadth  of  manner." 

Energy  —  another  of  the  characteristics  of  Michael  Angelo's 
style  —  is  the  result  of  giving  distinct  character  to  the  various 
parts  of  the  body  ;  that  is,  although  a  unity  of  action  reigns 
through  the  whole,  yet  each  portion  has  its  peculiar  part  well 
defined  or  articulated.  Where  this  is  not  the  case,  but  the  parts 
glide  imperceptibly  into  each  other,  more  beauty  is  acquired, 
and  with  it  more  tameness  and  languor.  But  character  (that  is, 
the  particular)  and  beauty  were  admitted  into  the  compositions 
of  Michael  Angelo  only  so  fixr  as  they  could  be  made  subservient 
to  grandeur. 

Such  are  some  of  the  characteristics  of  Michael  Angelo's  style, 
however  imperfectly  presented  ;  and  the  essence  of  the  whole  was 
given  by  Fuseli,  when,  in  as  powerful  an  expression  as  ever  came 
from  the  mouth  of  man,  he  said,  "  The  hump  of  his  dwarf  was 
impressed  with  dignity,  and  the  beggar  arose  from  his  hand  the 
patriarch  of  poverty." 


122  DA  VINCI,   MICHAEL  AXGELO,  AND  EAPHAEL. 

It  has  been  objected  to  Michael  Angelo  that  his  figures  are 
not  natural,  or  rather  go  beyond  nature,  —  which  in  a  certain 
sense  is  true,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  term ;  but  they 
are  based  upon  nature,  and  no  farther  removed  from  the  repre- 
sentations of  the  common  objects  of  it  than  the  most  elevated 
music  of  Handel,  Haydn,  or  Beethoven,  or  any  other  of  the 
great  masters,  is  from  the  inartificial  note  of  nature  from  which 
it  originates,  or  is  an  imitation  of. 

Many  of  the  conceptions  of  Michael  Angelo  seem  to  be  a  sort 
of  intermediate  creation  between  angels  and  men ;  and  though 
they  do  not  actually  represent  the  physical  structure  of  those 
existences  they  pretend  to  portray,  as  the  prophets,  sibyls,  etc., 
3^et  they  make  an  adequate  and  satisfactory  impression  upon  the 
imagination,  and  thus  accomplish  the  great  end  he  had  in  view, 
—  and  they  do  this  beyond  the  works,  in  this  department,  of  any 
other  master.  There  are  none  that  so  raise  our  wonder  and  as- 
tonishment, although  they  do  not  excite  our  sympathies,  like 
the  dramatic  compositions  of  Da  Vinci  and  Raphael. 

We  never  fall  in  love  with  the  works  of  this  master.  We  stand 
before  them,  not  with  a  feeling  allied  to  that  with  which  we  view 
the  rainbow,  but  more  resembling  that  deeper,  intenser,  more 
fearful,  and  elevating  sensation  with  which  we  behold  the  light- 
ning, and  listen  to  the  groaning  of  the  earthquake  and  the  roaring 
of  the  thunder.  Of  course,  but  an  imperfect  idea  can  be  formed 
of  Michael  Angelo's  great  style  of  design  from  mere  descrijDtion. 
To  properly  comprehend  him,  one  must  have  seen  the  works 
themselves  beneath  the  gloomy  vaults  of  the  Sistine  Chapel ; 
and  those  only  who  have  had  that  privilege  can  fully  appreciate 
the  compliment  paid  him  by  Raphael,  when  he  thanked  God 
that  he  had  lived  in  the  same  age  with  and  had  seen  the  works 
of  Michael  Angelo. 

EAPHAEL. 

No  artist  ever  existed,  perhaps,  whose  works  have  been  re- 
garded with  such  unqualified  admiration  as  those  of  Raphael 
Sanzio  d'  Urbino. 

Raphael  was  born  in  Urbino,  a  small  town  in  Italy,  on  Good 


DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND  liAPIIAEL.  123 

Friday,  April  6,  1483.  His  fixther  was  Giovanni  or  John  Sanzio, 
a  painter  of  some  note  in  his  day,  but  his  works  were  not  of 
sufficient  merit  to  secure  him  a  phice  among  the  great  artists  of 
that  period.  It  is,  however,  glory  enough  for  one  man  to  have 
been  the  parent  of  Raphael.  Raphael  was  only  eight  years  of 
age  when  he  lost  his  mother,  but,  his  father  marr^-ing  the 
second  time,  her  place  was  well  supplied  by  his  step-mother, 
who  loved  and  cherished  him  as  if  he  had  been  her  own  sou. 

At  this  time  there  was  living  in  another  small  city,  Perugia, 
a  painter  of  some  provincial  celebrity,  called  Perugino,  whom 
Raphael's  father  had  selected  as  the  first  teacher  of  his  son,  but 
the  parent  dying  August  4,  1494,  before  the  arrangement  was 
completed,  his  wishes  were  carried  into  effect  by  his  widow, 
assisted  by  her  brother,  in  1495,  when  Raphael  was  just  twelve 
years  of  age.  Unlike  Michael  Angelo,  but  like  AUston's  hero, 
Monaldi,  Raphael  did  not  give  any  very  early  evidences  of  his 
genius.  There  were  more  promising  boys  in  the  school  than 
he  was,  at  starting;  but  he  was  quietly  and  surely  laying  the 
firm  and  broad  foundation  of  those  solid  acquirements  that 
erelong  were  to  make  him,  like  that  same  Monaldi,  the  delight 
and  envy  of  his  contemporaries  and  a  model  for  his  successors. 
He  continued  under  the  instruction  of  Perugino,  we  sujDpose, 
not  more  than  five  years;  for  at  the  age  of  seventeen  we  find 
hira  acting  as  an  assistant  to  Pinturicchio,  a  painter  in  the  city 
of  Sienna,  and,  three  years  afterwards,  a  visitor  in  Florence, 
whither  he  had  been  drawn  by  the  great  fame  of  Da  Vinci  and 
Michael  Angelo,  —  which  was  then,  like  a  great  circle  upon  the 
water,  spreading  in  every  direction,  —  and  perhaps  to  examine 
the  sculptured  relics  of  Grecian  grandeur,  that  at  the  close  of 
the  fourteenth  century  had  arisen  from  their  burial-places  to 
decorate  the  palaces  of  the  nobles,  and  especially  the  princely 
establishment  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici.  His  visit  to  Florence  at 
this  time  was  probably  a  short  one,  as  in  1505  he  was  em- 
ployed in  executing  large  pictures  for  churches  in  Perugia,  one 
of  which,  an  altar-piece,  is  now  at  Blenheim,  England ;  a 
smaller  one,  of  "  John  preaching  in  the  Wilderness,"  in  the 
possession  of  Lord  Lansdowne  ;  and  another,  a  miniature  design. 


124  DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND   RAPHAEL. 

called  "  The  Dream  of  the  Young  Knight,"  now  in  the  possession 
of  Lady  Sykes. 

When  he  had  finished  these  and  other  works,  he  returned  to 
Florence,  and  remained  there  until  1508  ;  during  this  period 
he  painted  some  of  the  most  exquisite  of  his  cabinet  works,  as 
"  La  Belle  Jardiniere,"  "  The  Lady  and  the  Goldfinch,"  "  The 
Madonna  under  the  Palm-Tree,"  the  "  St.  Catherine  "  in  the 
National  Gallery,  and  several  others,  —  in  all,  about  thirty. 

As  yet  Raphael  had  never  visited  Rome,  but  he  had  a  friend 
at  court,  and  a  relation  of  some  sort  or  other,  in  Bramante,  the 
architect  of  St.  Peter's.  Bramante,  knowing  Raphael's  many 
excellent  qualities  as  an  artist,  recommended  him  to  the  then 
Pope,  Julius  II.,  as  well  fitted  to  adorn  certain  halls  in  the 
Vatican  which  Nicholas  V.  and  Sextus  IV.  had  left  unfinished  ; 
and  he  did  this,  it  is  said,  with  the  hope  that  one  who  was 
exclusively  a  painter  would  exhibit  a  superiority  over  one  whose 
attention  had  been  chiefly  given  to  the  sister  art  of  sculpture, 
and  who  had,  as  just  now  stated,  already  excited  anew  the 
jealousy  of  Bramante  by  the  successful  manner  in  which  he 
was  adorning  the  Sistine  Chapel. 

The  invitation  being  given  by  the  Pope,  it  was  accepted  by 
Raphael,  and  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  he  commenced  opera- 
tions. The  subject  assigned  him  was  "  the  establishment  and 
maintenance  of  church  government "  ;  and  this  he  illustrated  by 
eleven  large  frescos,  —  "Parnassus,"  "the  School  of  Athens," 
"The  Dispute  on  the  Sacrament,"  "The  Blood-Stained  Wafer," 
"  The  Deliverance  of  St.  Peter,"  "  The  Overthrow  of  Heliodorus," 
"  The  Defeat  of  Attila,"  "  The  Vision  of  Constantino,"  "The  Rout 
of  Maxentius,"  "  The  Burning  of  the  Borgo,"  and  "  Constantino 
receiving  his  Crown  from  the  Sovereign  Pontiff." 

The  first  chamber  was  devoted  to  the  illustration  of  those 
high  intellectual  pursuits  which  embrace,  in  some  form  or  other, 
all  intellectual  culture, — Theology,  Philosophy,  Poetry,  Law,  or 
Jurisprudence. 

The  second  chamber  (commenced  in  1510)  was  devoted  to  the 
illustration  of  the  power  and  glory  of  the  Church,  and  her 
miraculous  deliverance  from  her  secular  enemies. 


DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND   RAPHAEL.  125 

Before  this  chamber  was  finished,  Juhus  II.  died,  and  was 
succeeded  by  Leo  X.,  and  under  his  patronage  was  concluded 
the  great  work  commenced  under  Juhus. 

In  1515  he  commenced  the  third  hall,  and  covered  the  sides 
of  it  with  representations  of  the  great  events  in  the  lives  of 
Leo  III.  and  Leo  IV.,  shadowing  forth  under  their  names  the 
glory  of  his  then  patron,  Leo  X. 

The  last  of  the  chambers  in  the  Vatican,  the  Hall  of  Con- 
stantino, was  painted  by  Raphael's  favorite  pupil,  Giulio  Romano, 
and  other  of  his  scholars,  from  designs  and  cartoons  by  Raphael 
himself;  but  whether  before  or  after  his  decease  we  cannot 
state  with  any  certainty. 

Although  Raphael  had  this  great  national  work  on  his  hands, 
and  other  hardly  less  onerous  and  important  duties  to  perform 
as  the  architect  of  St.  Peter's,  —  an  aj)pointment  he  received 
from  the  Pope  after  the  decease  of  Bramante,  —  he  found  time 
not  only  to  execute  the  above,  but  also  to  adorn  the  walls  of  the 
Famesina,  designed  and  painted  "  The  Cartoons  "  —  originally 
twenty-five  in  number  —  and  numerous  pictures  in  oil,  among 
them  twelve  full-length  figiu'es  of  the  Apostles,  many  altar-pieces, 
and  most  of  the  many  Madonnas  that  now  enrich  the  best  gal- 
leries in  Europe  ;  but  above  and  beyond  all  else,  he  executed 
that  triumph  of  the  art,  "The  Transfiguration,"  —  the  last  be- 
quest of  his  genius  to  the  arts,  as  he  was  seized  with  a  fever, 
and,  after  a  few  days'  illness,  died  on  the  anniversary^  of  his 
birthday  in  1520. 

Great  was  the  grief  of  Italy.  The  Pope  had  sent  daily  to  in- 
quire for  his  health,  and  when  told  that  the  great  painter  w^as  no 
more,  he  burst  out  into  lamentation  for  his  own  and  the  world's 
loss.  The  body  was  laid  in  state,  and  over  it  was  suspended 
"  The  Transfiguration,"  yet  unfinished.  From  his  own  house 
near  St.  Peter's  a  multitude  followed  the  bier,  and  his  remains 
were  placed  in  the  church  of  the  Pantheon  by  the  side  of  his 
betrothed,  a  daughter  of  Cardinal  Bibbiena,  —  his  marriage  with 
whom  was  prevented  by  her  early  death. 

As  Raphael  died  on  the  anniversary  of  his  birthday,  he  was 
just  thirty-seven  years  of  age,  —  "but  a  youth,"  as  Saul  said  of 


126  DA  VINCI,  MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND  RAPHAEL. 

David,  by  the  side  of  that  patriarch  and  giant  of  the  arts, 
Michael  Angelo,  who  reached  the  advanced  age  of  ninety  years. 

Of  the  productions  of  Raphael,  there  remain,  it  is  thought, 
about  a  thousand ;  but  this  number  must  include  some  of  his 
larger  drawings,  —  an  amazing  prolificness  under  any  circum- 
stances, but  the  less  incredible  when  it  is  known,  that,  although 
he  designed  the  whole,  in  the  painting  of  them  he  received  the 
assistance  of  others. 

"  The  Transfiguration,"  not  entirely  finished  at  the  time  of  his 
decease,  was  completed  by  his  favorite  pupil,  Giulio  Romano ; 
but,  as  already  stated,  it  was  exhibited  to  the  public  as  it  then 
was  on  the  easel,  beside  the  lifeless  remains  of  its  author ;  and 
what  must  have  been  the  impression  made  by  such  an  exhi- 
bition upon  the  tasteful  and  feeling  population  of  Italy  ! 

It  is  generally  conceded  that  no  painter  has  done  so  much  for 
the  higher  excellences  of  the  art,  nor,  in  the  principles  on  which 
they  are  founded,  has  placed  improvement  on  principles  so  sure 
and  unchanging,  as  Raphael  in  these  works.  We  repeat,  the 
higher  excellences  of  the  art ;  for  you  look  in  vain  in  Raphael 
for  harmonious  and  powerful  coloring,  nor  is  he  to  be  imitated 
for  a  skilful  arrangement  of  his  chiaro-oscuro,  nor  in  the 
beauty  of  individual  figures  do  we  discover  his  chief  excellence. 
"  His  great  pre-eminence  is  facility  and  propriety  of  invention, 
the  most  admirable  skill  in  composition  and  grouping,  and, 
above  all,  appropriateness  of  expression  with  great  beauty  and 
expressiveness  in  the  drapery." 

"There  is  always  in  the  works  of  Raphael  a  uniform  subordi- 
nation of  the  means  to  the  end,  and  a  predominance  of  the 
intellectual  over  the  sensual  and  the  conventional.  In  short, 
we  behold  in  him  the  ennobling  expounder  of  human  character 
and  emotions  in  their  universal  elements."  The  works  of 
Raphael,  therefore,  do  not  astonish  us  like  those  of  Michael 
Angelo,  but  they  move  us,  and  the  power  of  moving  (as  hereto- 
fore particularly  illustrated  in  "The  Burning  of  the  Borgo," 
Essay  IV.)  is  acquired  directly  from  human  s}Tiipathy. 

In  this  statement  of  the  characteristic  features  of  Raphael's 
stvle,   it  will  be  seen  how  widely  different  was   the  field  he 


DA  VINCI,   MICHAEL  ANGELO,  AND   EAPHAEL.  127 

occupied  from  that  of  Michael  Angelo,  —  the  one  being  an  epic, 
the  other  a  dramatic  painter ;  and  that  there  would  be  no  more 
propriety  in  instituting  a  comparison  between  them,  as  is  often 
attempted,  than  between  Milton  and  Shakespeare,  because  they 
do  not  come  under  the  same  law%  —  ^Michael  Angelo  inider  a  law 
that  regulates  a  creative,  Raphael  under  one  that  regulates  an 
imitative  art.  Which  is  the  superior  of  the  two  arts  is  another 
question,  and  one  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  decide ;  nor  do  we 
think  any  one  could  be  found  to  give  a  just  and  satisfactory- 
decision. 

It  is  claimed  for  Raphael,  that,  while  others  excel  in  some 
one  quality  of  art,  he  has  combined  in  his  labors  more  of  the 
requisites  of  perfection  than  any  other  artist.  This  is  true, 
and  it  constitutes  his  superiority  over  those  who  were  simply 
painters ;  but  it  does  not  include  Michael  Angelo,  for,  protracted 
as  his  life  was,  it  was  divided  among  sculjoture,  painting,  and 
architecture,  and  but  a  small  portion  of  it  was  devoted  to 
painting. 

Although  there  was,  it  is  thought,  a  little  jealousy  between 
Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael  in  their  lifetime,  or  rather  on  the 
part  of  the  former,  it  is  not  worth  while  for  the  world  to  per- 
petuate the  idea,  for  there  was  no  occasion  for  it.  There  was 
glory  enough  in  the  position  they  each  occupied  to  satisfy  any 
human  being,  and  it  is  not  now  apparent  that  art  will  ever 
produce  their  equals  in  the  same  departments.  A  new  field 
may  be  discovered,  however,  and  new  combinations  formed  ;  and 
that  is  the  great  idea  always  to  be  kept  in  mind,  or  those  who 
come  after  will  never  rightly  profit  by  the  principles  of  excel- 
lence developed  in  the  labors  of  those  great  men  who  have 
preceded  them. 


ESSAY    IX. 

TITIAN   AND   CORREGGIO. 

IT  is  a  remarkable  circumstance,  and  one  noted  by  early  as  well 
as  by  later  writers  on  the  history  of  art,  that  authors  and 
artists  most  distinguished  for  their  parts  and  genius  have  usu- 
ally appeared  in  considerable  numbers  at  the  same  time.  This 
was  strikingly  so  with  regard  to  sculpture  in  Greece  and  paint- 
ing in  Italy.  Thus,  while  in  Rome  and  Florence  design  in  the 
hands  of  Michael  Angelo,  and  expression  in  those  of  Raphael, 
were  receiving  their  perfection,  and  forming  almost  the  exclusive 
subjects  of  study,  in  Venice  the  seductions  of  coloring,  in  Lom- 
bardy  the  illusions  of  light  and  shadow,  were  adding  unknown 
pomp  and  magic  to  the  art. 

Of  the  great  painters  of  the  Venetian  school  whose  names 
have  come  down  to  us,  none  stand  higher  on  the  records  of  art 
than  Antonio  de  Messina,  who  first  introduced  the  use  of  oil ; 
the  two  Bellini,  Tintoretto,  Paul  Veronese,  Sebastiano  del  Pi- 
ombo,  Schiavone,  Bassano,  Giorgione,  and  Titian. 

But  of  Venetian  painting  the  gi^eat  ornament  is  Titian,  or, 
properly  speaking,  Tiziano  Vecellio,  whose  name  is  synonymous 
with  the  characteristics  of  this  school,  — fine  coloring. 

Titian  was  born  at  Cadore,  a  small  town  in  Italy,  in  the  year 
1480,  twenty-nine  years  after  Da  Vinci,  six  after  Michael 
Angelo,  three  previous  to  Raphael,  and  fourteen  previous  to 
Correggio. 

When  only  ten  years  of  age  he  was  placed  by  his  parents 
under  the  instruction  of  the  younger  Bellini,  from  whom  he 
learned  little  save  the  habit  of  accurate  delineation,  the  elements 
of  his  future  style  being  derived  from  Giorgione,  a  fellow-student, 
—  a  style,  however,  first  indicated,  but  with  less  amenity  and 
splendor,   in  the  works  of  Da  Vinci. 


/  .  '-''■///■/^-nt/'//////  •_  '^/^('//.  / 


U  >^  OS  THl     -4: 

TBRSITt! 


TITIAN   AND   CORREGGIO.  129 

We  do  not  propose  to  follow  Titian  along  the  course  of  his 
protracted  career,  as  there  is  scarcely  a  city  in  Italy  that  has 
not  some  public  edifice  ornamented  with  the  labors  of  his  pencil, 
as  there  was  scarcely  a  monarch  of  his  time  from  whom  he 
had  not  received  more  pressing  invitations  and  personal  homage 
than  ever  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  single  private  individual.  Kings, 
popes,  and  emperors  were  his  daily  associates  ;  these  he  painted 
bv  scores,  and  princes  by  hundreds.  The  number  of  portraits 
of  noble  and  ignoble  personages  whose  heads  he  transferred  to 
canvas  would  exceed  all  belief,  did  we  not  know  that  he  lived 
to  be  nearly  one  hundred  years  old,  and  during  ninety  years  of 
that  period  hardly  ceased  for  a  day  to  labor  with  his  pencil. 

In  other  departments  of  painting  Titian  was  almost  as  pro- 
lific as  in  portraiture.  Indeed,  his  historical  efforts  are  so 
numerous  as  to  excite  universal  astonishment,  and  the  more  so 
as  there  is  no  evidence,  that,  like  Raphael,  Rubens,  and  other 
distinguished  artists,  he  received  any  f  )reign  assistance. 

Those  of  his  larger  productions  that  have  given  him  great  ce- 
lebrity, perhaps  the  gi-eatest,  are  "The  Assumption  of  the  Virgin," 
in  the  Academy  at  Venice,  and  "  The  ^lartyrdom  of  Peter,"  — 
the  former  of  which,  in  the  opinion  of  some  critics,  "  embodies 
various  excellences,  such  as  have  never  been  combined  in  any 
single  performance,  save  by  Titian  himself"  ;  while  the  latter  is 
spoken  of  in  terms  that  to  repeat  would  have  the  appearance 
of  hyperbole. 

Among  his  smaller  productions,  the  most  voluptuously  attrac- 
tive are  the  "  Danae  "  and  the  *'  Venus  "  ;  the  most  beautiful 
portrait  is  that  of  his  wife  looking  into  a  mirror  held  by  Titian 
standing  behind  her,  — a  painting  belonging  to  the  French  govern- 
ment, the  same  that  makes  our  foiu'th  illustration. 

In  comparing  Titian  with  the  great  artists  of  the  Ronian  and 
Florentine  schools,  it  has  been  usual  to  describe  him  as  the 
painter  of  physical  nature,  while  to  them  has  been  assigned 
the  loftier  and  exclusive  praise  of  depicting  the  mind  and  the 
passions. 

The  works  on  which  Titian  was  employed,  appertaining  to 
public  edifices  and  the  pomp  of  courts,  were  chiefly  of  a  class 


4 


130  TITIAN   AND    CORREGGIO. 

in  which  splendid  effect  is  the  chief  reqnisite  ;  but,  if  all  that 
is  told  us  be  true,  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  the  painter  of 
"The  Assumption"  and  "The  Martyrdom"  was  unable  to  cope 
with  sublimity  and  pathos.  Neither  in  the  drawing  of  the  figure 
nor  in  the  design,  in  which  respect  his  capacity  has  been  especially 
arraigned,  is  there,  in  the  opinion  of  many,  the  imperfection 
that  is  alleged  against  him ;  and,  as  an  evidence  of  this,  they 
point  you  to  his  many  representations  of  female  beauty,  as  the 
Danae,  the  Venus,  and  others.  But  this  may  be  said  to  prove 
nothing  more  than  that  he  was  a  skilful  draughtsman,  not  a 
great  one;  for  "the  first  implies  only  a  faithful  copy  of  the 
model,  but  the  second  an  ability  to  correct  it  by  an  ideal 
standard,  and  his  subject  might  have  embodied  all  the  l)eau- 
ties  of  form  and  feature  to  be  found  in  those  two  pictures." 

Michael  Angelo,  when  he  viewed  his  Danae,  is  reported  to 
have  qualified  his  otherwise  unlimited  praise  of  this  master. 
But  little  stress,  however,  should  be  laid  on  this,  for  he  may 
have  been  judging  by  his  own  ideal  standard,  which,  however 
appropriate  to  his  own  style  of  art  and  the  immense  scale  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel,  was  by  no  means  a  just  medium  for  the 
forms  of  real  life,  nor  adapted  to  the  representation  of  beauty. 
But,  be  this  as  it  may,  on  one  point  there  exists  no  differ- 
ence of  opinion,  namely,  in  regard  to  Titian's  merit  as  a  colorist ; 
for  the  united  verdict  of  all  time  and  of  all  countries  has  pro- 
nounced his  excellence  in  this  respect  unsurpassed,  notwith- 
standing the  vast  developments  made  since  his  time  in  the 
chemistry  of  colors  and  general  science,  and  the  advantages 
resulting  to  his  successors  from  his  example  and  his  princi- 
ples,—  for  "Titian  reduced  to  a  system  what  before  had  been 
practised  at  random  and  without  rule." 

Titian  was  the  first  to  unite  breadth  and  softness  to  the 
proper  degree  of  finish,  and  also  the  first  to  express  the  nega- 
tive nature  of  shade,  and  the  effect  of  extreme  shadow  and 
the  highest  light  in  assimilating  colors,  —  that  is,  whatever 
the  local  inherent  hue  of  objects,  whether  red,  yellow,  or  blue, 
rendering  them  all  equally  black  in  the  deepest  shade,  and  all 
equally  white  in  the  brightest  light,  or  in  both  instances  color- 


TITIAN    AND    CORREGGIO.  131 

less.  Before  tliis,  all  objects  in  a  painting,  whether  of  a  red, 
blue,  or  yellow  hue,  were  in  the  deepest  shadow  rendered  only 
of  a  darker  red  or  blue  or  yellow,  and  more  faintly  so  in  the 
highest  light,  —  which  was  an  error,  as  extreme  light  equally  with 
extreme  shadow  is  the  annihilator  of  color.  This  was  a  most/ 
important  principle,  and  a  chief  source,  as  heretofore  men- 
tioned, of  union  and  harmony  in  his  system  of  coloring. 

Titian  first  taught  "  by  contrast  and  opposition  of  warm  and 
cold  colors  to  give  splendor  and  expression  to  particular  por- 
tions of  a  picture,  and  by  their  balance,  diffusion,  and  echo  to 
poise  the  whole.  His  eye,  as  musical  as  his  ear,  first  abstracted 
that  color  acts,  aftects,  delights,  like  sound  ;  that  all  actors  who 
enter  upon  the  scene,  all  stages  of  humanity,  all  ages  and  con- 
ditions, all  passions  and  affections,  have  their  characteristic  color 
and  shades  of  difference." 

It  is  to  Titian,  also,  that  the  art  is  indebted  for  that  gen- \ 
eralizing  process  of  expressing  the  image  and  character  of  ob- 
jects by  a  few  bold  strokes  of  the  pencil,  instead  of  attempt- 
ing to  produce  the  same  effect  by  laboriously  working  out  the  de- 
tail ;  the  manner  of  which,  and  the  great  advantages  resulting 
therefrom,  we  explained  and  fully  illustrated  in  the  essay  on  / 
Color. 

The  foregoing  were  the  great  improvements  in  the  art  of 
coloring  introduced  by  the  inventive  genius  of  Titian.  To 
fully  comprehend  how  admirably  he  illustrated  all  this  in 
practice,  one  must  have  seen  something  better  by  that  mas- 
ter than  can  be  discovered  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic ;  for 
we  doubt  if  a  truly  gi-eat  and  original  painting  by  Titian  ever 
found  its  way  to  the  United  States.  There  are  not  many  to  be 
found  even  in  England.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  once  told  his 
pupil,  Xorthcote,  that  he  would  be  willing  to  ruin  himself  to 
possess  a  really  fine  painting  by  the  great  Venetian.  No  Eu- 
ropean would  think  of  parting  willingly  w^ith  one  ;  and  cer- 
tainly a  change  of  ownership  at  any  time  would  form  an  era 
in  the  history  of  art. 

Titian  died  of  the  plague,  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-nine, 
in  1576,  Giorgione,  his  fellow-student,  sixty-five  years  previous. 


132  TITIAN  AND   CORREGGIO. 

We  mention  them  together,  because,  at  the  time  of  Giorgione's 
death,  their  paths  tended  in  the  same  direction. 

CORKEGGIO. 

Of  the  remaining  pupils  of  the  Venetian  school,  especially 
Tintoretto  and  one  or  two  others,  we  should,  had  we  space, 
and  did  it  accord  with  our  plan,  have  said  something ;  we 
pass  them  by,  however,  to  notice  a  greater  benefactor  to  the 
arts  than  either,  —  Correggio,  Antonio  AllegTi,  the  inventor  of 
the  third  grand  requisite  to  make  manifest  the  power  of  the 
art,  harmony  of  light  and  shadow. 

Until  within  a  few  years,  less  has  been  known  of  the  birth, 
fortunes,  and  death  of  Correggio  than  of  any  other  distinguished 
painter  whose  name  is  recorded  in  history. 

It  is  generally  stated  that  he  lived  neglected,  received  little 
for  his  paintings,  and  at  last  died  of  the  burden  of  sixty  crowns 
in  copper,  which,  being  obliged  to  carry  it  a  distance  of  twelve 
miles  in  the  hot  sun,  so  overpowered  and  heated  him,  that  he 
fell  into  a  fever  and  died  a  few  days  afterwards.  How  any 
one  could  seriously  have  made  such  a  statement  it  is  difficult 
to  conceive,  for  it  carries  a  falsehood  on  the  face  of  it,  as  sixty 
crowns  in  copper  would  weigh  nearly  two  hundred  pounds  Ameri- 
can ;  and,  besides,  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  fact,  that,  from  the 
time  he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age,  his  employment  constantly 
increased,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  works  he  was  engaged  on 
it  is  quite  evident  that  he  was  considered  the  best  painter  in 
Lombardy ;  and,  besides,  he  is  reported  to  have  married  a  lady 
of  fortune. 

There  is  no  great  peculiarity  in  this  romance  about  Correg- 
gio's  death.  Authors  seem  to  think  it  necessary  to  state  some- 
thing approaching  the  miraculous,  but  oftener  the  ridiculous, 
about  men  of  genius ;  it  is  the  powder  that  the  magician  throws 
into  the  box  to  make  the  egg  come  out  a  rabbit. 

Correggio  was  born  in  a  small  town  in  Italy,  called  Correggio, 
about  the  year  1494,  twenty  years  after  Michael  Angelo,  eleven 
after  Raphael,  fourteen  after  Titian,  and  forty-two  after  Da 
Vinci.     His  father  was  a  merchant ;  his  first  teacher  was  his 


TITLAJ;   AND   CORREGGIO.  133 

uncle,  Lorenzo.  The  gi-eater  portion  of  Correggio's  life  was 
passed  at  Parma.  He  never  visited  the  immortal  city,  it  is 
said,  —  wliich  is  hardly  credible  ;  he  was  a  mere  provincial ; 
was  entirely  ignorant,  it  is  stated,  but  probably  not  correctly, 
of  Michael  Angelo,  Da  Vinci,  Kaphael,  Titian,  indeed,  of  every- 
thing but  nature,  to  which  he  paid  the  last  sad  debt,  March  6, 
1534,  0.  S.,  fourteen  years  after  Raphael's  decease,  at  the  early 
age  of  forty-one.  He  died  of  a  malignant  fever;  Kaphael,  as 
we  have  seen,  also  of  a  fever;  Titian,  of  the  plague;  Michael 
Angelo,  of  old  age  ;  Da  Vinci,  in  a  manner  not  stated. 

The  burial-place  of  Da  Vinci  is  not  precisely  known  ;  probably 
it  is  in  Clou,  France.  Titian,  although  dying  of  an  infections 
disease,  was,  by  a  special  decree  of  the  Senate,  buried  in  the 
chui'ch  of  Santa  Maria,  in  Venice.  Michael  Angelo  reposes  at 
Florence,  Raphael  in  St.  Peter's,  and  all  that  was  mortal  of 
Correggio  has  long  since  mouldered  away  beneath  a  Franciscan 
convent  in  Parma,  but  the  noblest  eftbrts  of  his  immortal  pen- 
cil still  survive  him  in  the  frescos  that  adorn  the  two  noble 
cupolas  of  the  cathedral  church  of  his  native  city.  These  are 
the  most  important  w^orks  of  CoiTeggio  in  fresco.  The  subject 
of  one  is  "The  Assumption  of  the  Virgin."  The  number  of 
his  oil  paintings  is  quite  as  astonishing  as  that  of  Raphael's, 
as  he  is  said  to  have  had  no  assistance.  And  among  them  that 
beautiful  personification  of  silence,  meditation,  and  repose,  "  The 
Reading  Magdalen,"  at  Dresden ;  "  Del  Notte,"  also  there ;  the 
"  Ecce  Homo,"  at  London ;  and  "  The  Mamage  of  St.  Catherine," 
in  the  Louvre,  at  Paris,  —  have  attracted  universal  admiration. 

We  have  not  space  to  particularly  describe  his  frescos,  nor 
is  it  necessary,  as  we  shall  notice  some  of  his  lesser  productions ; 
and  all  of  them,  equally  wdth  his  frescos,  possess  the  same 
clearness  and  relief,  the  same  depth,  sweetness,  and  purity  of 
color,  the  same  freedom  of  pencil,  the  same  gi-ace,  beauty,  and 
exquisite  management  of  light  and  shadow,  the  same  breadth 
and  inexpressible  harmony,  —  a  harmony,  however,  be  it  re- 
membered, growing  out  of  a  uniting  and  blending  principle 
of  light  and  shade,  and  entirely  distinct  from  that  harmony, 
dependent  upon  the  balance  and  opposition  of  colors,  w^hich 
found  Its  origin  and  triumph  in  the  school  of  Venice. 


134  TITIAN   AND    CORREGGIO. 

We  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  enter  into  an  analysis  of  all 
the  qualities  of  Correggio's  art,  for  he  holds  several  of  them  in 
common  with  other  painters,  the  only  difference  between  him 
and  others  in  these  respects  being  in  the  superior  manner  in 
which  he  displays  them.  We  shall  dwell  rather  upon  those 
which  at  the  time  particularly  distinguished  him  from  other 
artists,  and  upon  w^hich,  in  a  large  degree,  rests  his  great 
fume ;  and,  first,  of  his  admirable  management  of  light  and 
shadow,  which  consisted  simply  in  extending  a  large  light,  and 
making  it  lose  itself  insensibly  in  the  dark  shadowings  which 
he  placed  out  of  the  masses,  as  in  "Del  Notte,"  "The  Mag- 
dalen," and  others  which  will  readily  occur  to  those  who  are 
acquainted  w4th  the  works  of  this  master. 

As  the  whole  virtue  of  this  principle  is  extension  and  grada- 
tion, it  is  jDlain  enough  that  the  principal  light  need  not  always 
emanate  from  the  centre,  as  in  "  Del  Notte  " ;  it  may  proceed 
from  the  side,  as  in  ''Christ's  Agony  in  the  Garden,"  or  from 
both  sides,  or  from  the  horizon,  upwards  or  downwards,  pro- 
vided the  principle  of  graduated  diminution  be  observed. 

"The  same  feeling  for  gradation  in  the  mutable  effects  of 
light  and  shade  displays  itself  in  the  rapid  perspective  diminu- 
tion of  his  figures,  as  in  '  Del  Notte,'  or  '  The  Nativity,'  where 
the  shepherds  in  the  foreground  are  quite  gigantic  compared 
with  the  more  remote,  which  method  adds  greatly  in  giv- 
ing proximity  and  distance  and  creating  space.  So  in  his 
forms  every  gradation  from  absolute  hardness  and  sharpness 
to  almost  imperceptible  outline  is  observable ;  and  of  every- 
thing else  the  presiding  principle  is  graduated  extension,  and 
under  its  influence  lie  has  artfully  connected  the  fiercest  ex- 
tremes of  light  and  shadow^,  harmonized  the  most  intense 
opposition  of  colors,  and  combined  the  greatest  j^ossible  effect 
with  the  sweetest  and  softest  repose,  and  that  without  our 
being  able  to  perceive  whence  proceeds  so  much  23leasure  to 
the  siglit." 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  dark  side  of  the  several  objects 
in  Correggio's  paintings  is  not  relieved,  as  is  frequently  the  case, 
by  a  light  background,  but  by  one  still  darker,  —  a  method 


TITIAN   AND    CORKEGGIO.  135 

often  followed  by  Rembrandt,  and  also  by  Reynolds,  who  men- 
tions it  as  giving  a  rich  effect.  The  merit  of  this  invention, 
however,  is  to  be  divided  between  Correggio  and  Da  Vinci. 

We  have  not  space  to  point  out  the  defects  of  CoiTeggio,  for, 
although  always  splendid,  he  is  said  to  be  sometimes  incorrect ; 
but  it  is  only  a  little  dust  upon  the  diamond,  and  hardly  dims 
its  light.  It  would  have  been  useful,  perhaps,  to  have  said 
something  of  the  Venetian  stj'le  of  coloring,  as  contrasted  with 
that  of  the  Roman  and  Florentine  schools ;  for  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  "  each  has  a  manner  peculiar  to  itself  in  some  one 
or  other  of  the  different  branches  of  the  art,  each  excelling 
in  that  in  which  the  others  are  deficient,  —  the  Florentine  in 
design,  the  Roman  in  expression  and  character,  the  Venetian  in 
coloring,  and  the  Lombard  in  light  and  shadow." 

Whether  the  excellences  of  the  several  schools  can  ever  be 
successfully  united  into  one  is  still  an  open  question.  The 
attempt  was  once  made  by  the  Caracci  in  what  w^as  called  the 
eclectic  or  second  Bologna  school.  The  idea  was  a  good  one, 
but  the  match  was  broken  off,  not  so  much  by  reason  of  any 
known  misuitableness  in  the  parties  as  for  want  of  jDOwer  in  the 
priest  to  consummate  the  union,  or,  if  he  had  the  power,  he  did 
not  properly  employ  it. 

The  separation  of  pictorial  excellence  into  departments  had 
been  occasioned  by  partial  views  of  nature.  Had  the  Bolognese 
masters  taken  nature  as  the  connecting  and  vivifying  principle, 
instead  of  seeking  to  effect  the  combination  by  means  of  rules 
of  art,  it  is  thought  by  some  that  they  might  have  been  emi- 
nently successful. 

But  the  consideration  of  this  question  would  require  an  entire 
essay,  and,  besides,  the  occasion  does  not  demand  a  decision,  as 
we  set  out  with  the  design  simply  of  examining  and  analyzing 
the  characteristics  of  the  founders  of  the  four  principal  schools, 
and  thus  to  furnish  a  history  of  the  progressive  growth  of  art 
from  its  infancy  to  manhood. 

"Begun  by  Cimabue,  strengthened  by  Giotto,  confirmed  by 
Masaccio,  still  further  advanced  by  Signorelli,  we  have  at  last 
seen  it  receiving  its  ultimate  perfection  at  the  hands  of  Michael 
Angelo,  Da  Vinci,  Raphael,  Correggio,  and  Titiqj|." 


136  TITIAN  AND   COEREGGIO. 

The  first  rendered  it  sublime,  the  three  next  characteristi- 
cally expressive,  and  the  last  voluptuously  seductive. 

With  the  Venetian,  painting  was  a  lady  arrayed  for  the  nup- 
tials ;  with  the  Koman  and  the  Lombard,  it  was  the  personifica- 
tion of  all  the  sweet  affections  and  graces  of  humanity ;  with 
the  Florentine,  it  was  that  mysterious  agency  "that,  standing 
upon  the  boundary  line  between  the  perfect  and  the  good,  the 
human  and  divine,  was  found  not  unworthy  to  hold  intercourse 
with  the  Deity,  and  to  be  the  medium  of  the  communication  of 
his  will  and  benevolence  to  man." 

The  marble  is  sometimes  said  to  breathe,  and  the  canvas  to 
speak.  If  the  canvas  really  possessed  that  power,  while  with 
Titian  it  would  address  us  as  a  lover,  and  with  Raphael  and 
Correggio  speak  to  us  like  a  saint,  with  Michael  Angelo  it 
woidd  talk  to  us  like  a  god. 


■ESSAY    X. 

ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

THE  present  essay  will  be  devoted  to  an  examination  of  the 
merits  of  some  of  the  most  distinguished  deceased  English 
and  French  painters,  in  order  to  develop  the  principles  of 
two  schools,  that,  from  the  time  of  Re^'nolds  until  within  the 
last  quarter  of  a  century,  have  given  no  evidence  of  possess- 
ing anything  in  common ;  indeed,  they  differ  as  widely  in  the 
selection,  conception,  and  execution  of  the  subjects  of  their  pen- 
cil, as  it  is  possible  to  conceive  of  the  members  of  one  and  the 
same  art. 

Had  oar  limits  permitted,  it  would  have  been  pleasant  to 
have  said  something  more  than  we  have  incidentally  of  the 
pupils  and  immediate  successors  of  the  founders  of  the  art,  — 
of  Giulio  Romano,  "  the  poetic  Romano,  the  scientific  Volterra, 
the  sweet  and  gracious  Parmegiano,  the  extravagant  and  ter- 
rible Tibaldi,  the  modest  and  tender  Domenichino,  the  artificial 
Carlo  Dolce,  the  benign  and  graceful  Guido,  the  agreeable  and 
playful  Albini,  the  bold  but  incorrect  Lanfranco,  the  strong  but 
ungraceful  Caravaggio,  the  learned  and  tender  Caracci,  the  origi- 
nal and  terrific  Rosa  "  ;  —  we  repeat,  it  would  have  been  a  pleas- 
ant task  to  have  considered  at  length  the  merits  of  these  great 
painters;  but  we  pass  them  by,  together  with  Diirer,  Teniers, 
Rubens,  in  short,  almost  the  entire  old  German,  Dutch,  Flemish, 
and  Spanish  masters,  to  speak  of  those  who,  though  their  in- 
feriors in  many  important  particulars,  yet  are  deserving  especial 
consideration  in  this  volume,  inasmuch  as  a  discussion  of  their 
merits  will  afford  an  opportunity  of  giving  a  contrasted  view  of 
the  principles  of  two  schools  so  entirely  differing  in  every  im- 
portant particular  as  to  justify  us  in  designating  one  as  the 


138  ENGLISH  AND   FRENCH   ART. 

natural,  the  other  as  the  affected  school ;  and  we  will  commence 
with  the  natural,  or  the  English  school.  But  first  we  have 
a  few  remarks  to  make  in  reply  to  the  oft-repeated  inquiry, 
why  England,  a  nation  as  far  advanced  in  all  the  essentials  of 
civilization  as  any  on  the  Continent,  had,  until  the  coming  of 
Hogarth  in  1725,  produced  no  painter  who  really  merited  atten- 
tion, who  possessed  talent  for  original  composition,  or  skill  to 
render  his  conceptions  permanent.  And  we  are  the  more  per- 
suaded briefly  to  pursue  this  examination  because  the  causes  to 
which  this  tardy  development  was  owing  are  general  in  their 
nature,  and  equally  illustrate  a  similar  condition  of  things  in 
any  other  country. 

We  do  not  mean  it  to  be  understood  that  there  were  no 
painters  in  England  during  all  this  early  period,  for  there  was 
Holbein,  so  famous  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.;  and  Sir 
Peter  Lely,  who  figured  in  his  light,  lascivious,  though  graceful 
and  unmeaning  manner,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II. ;  and  Sir 
Godfrey  Kneller,  Lely's  rival,  and,  as  some  think,  over-esti- 
mated successor ;  and  Rubens,  the  prolific  Rubens ;  and  the 
elegant  and  refined  Van  Dyck,  who  painted  and  immortalized 
the  nobles  of  England,  and  adorned  and  enriched  the  palaces 
of  Charles  I.     But  these  were  all  foreign,  not  native  artists. 

True  it  is,  also,  that  contemporary  with  these  exotics  were 
several  Englishmen  who  used  the  brush  and  the  pencil,  —  for  no 
nation  at  all  civilized  is  at  any  time  without  art  of  some  kind,  — 
painters,  too,  celebrated  in  their  day  and  generation,  but  whose 
greatest  glory  now  is  not  to  have  been  quite  as  bad  as  their 
fellow -laborers  ;  but  they  all  went  for  nothing  on  the  appear- 
ance of  Hogarth,  whose  mighty  genius,  as  compared  with  all 
that  had  preceded  him,  was  as  the  sim  to  a  meteor,  —  a  meteor 
that  with  a  partial  and  momentary  illumination  passes  along 
the  horizon,  explodes,  and  is  gone  forever. 

Various  causes  have  been  assigned  for  this  condition  of  things. 
Some  have  sought  a  solution  in  the  climate  of  England,  and 
this  probably  would  weigh  greatly  with  Bunsen  ;  but,  however 
plausible  such  a  supposition  might  have  appeared  up  to  a  certain 
period,  yet  it  is  hardly  justified  by  the  present  condition  of  art 


ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH   ART.  139 

in  England,  and  its  degi'adcd  condition  in  those  countries  once 
most  distinguished  for  their  advancement  in  it.     Byron  says  of 

Greece,  — 

"  Yet  are  thy  skies  as  blue,  thy  crags  as  wild; 

Sweet  are  thy  groves,  and  verdant  are  thy  fields. 

Thine  olive  ripe  as  when  Minerva  smiled, 

And  still  his  honeyed  wealth  Hyniettus  yields; 

There  the  blithe  bee  his  fragrant  fortress  builds, 

The  freeborn  wanderer  of  thy  mountain  air; 

Apollo  still  thy  long,  long  sunnner  gilds, 

Still  in  his  beam  Mendeli's  marbles  glare, 
Art,  glory,  freedom,  fail,  but  nature  still  is  fair." 

We  know  that  the  chmate  of  Italy  is  the  same  now  as  in  the 
days  of  Leo  and  Julius,  and  yet,  as  compared  with  the  past, 
how  poor  is  she  in  modern  masters  of  the  art ! 

This  matter  of  climate  as  affecting  mental  development  is  a 
very  common  argument,  and,  with  other  physical  causes,  is  doubt- 
less entitled  to  consideration ;  but  much  more  importance,  we 
apprehend,  is  sometimes  attached  than  justly  belongs  to  it.  A 
better  reason  than  this,  and  one  that  finds  corroboration  in  the 
history  of  Grecian  and  Italian  art,  is  supplied  by  Eames,  when 
he  tells  us  that  in  the  time  of  Henry  VII.,  when  painting  was 
rendering  Italy  the  most  renowned  country  on  earth,  ''  there 
did  not  exist  n  England,  as  in  Italy  in  the  poetry  of  Dante 
before  the  appearance  of  Michael  Angelo  and  Raphael,  and  in 
Greece  in  the  poetr}^  of  Homer  before  the  appearance  of  Phidias 
and  Apelles,  any  standard  of  characteristic  originality ;  for,  with 
the  exception  of  Surrey,  no  poet  of  genius  had  appeared  in  Eng- 
land, and  poetry  must,  nay,  always  does,  precede  painting.  Nor 
is  this  an  accidental  circumstance.  The  labors  of  the  poet  are 
a  creative  preparation  for  the  sister  art ;  for  by  their  rapid  and 
wide-spread  circulation  they  soften  the  sensibilities,  arouse  the 
imagination,  give  to  taste  an  existence  and  a  feeling  of  its  object, 
and  awaken  the  mind  to  a  sense  of  its  intellectual  wants.  The 
works  of  poetry  also  constitute  a  common  chronicle,  whether  of 
fiction  or  of  reality,  whose  events  are  dear  to,  and  quickly  recog- 
nizable by  all.  Fancy  thus  obtains  a  love  of  its  own,  whose 
legends  delight  by  repetition,  and  whose  imagery  animates  the 
canvas  and  the  marble." 


140  ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH   ART. 

The  English  mind  then,  we  may  conchide,  had  not  been  suf- 
ficiently matured,  the  fancy  and  the  imagination  sufficiently 
warmed,  for  the  pencil's  work.  But  this  state  of  things  was  not 
always  to  continue  ;  Spenser,  and  a  greater  than  he,  had  come. 
For  a  long  period,  however,  the  great  English  poets  were  but 
limitedly  read ;  they  w^ere  not,  like  Homer  and  Dante,  the 
morning  and  evening  hymn  of  the  people.  The  war  made 
by  the  Reformers  and  Puritans  against  the  Romish  Church 
had  a  counteracting  influence  on  art,  and,  at  a  later  period, 
"the  profound  speculations  of  Locke  and  the  amazing  demon- 
strations of  Newton  w^ere  by  no  means  favorable  to  painting. 
The  sublime  mysteries  unveiled  by  the  genius  of  Newton  gave 
an  especial  bias  to  men's  minds,  and  caused  his  own  age  to 
view  with  indiff'ereuce,  as  light  and  valueless,  pursuits  which 
seemed  to  administer  only  to  the  amenities  of  life,  or  to  hang- 
only  as  graceful  ornaments  on  society." 

But  amid  all  this  Apollo  had  not  sung  unheard.  Slowly,  it 
is  true,  but  surely,  he  had  been  piping  his  way  into  the  Eng- 
lish heart.  The  great  English  poets  were  in  time  more  exten- 
sively read  and  appreciated.  The  great  English  essayists,  with 
Addison  at  their  head,  had  not  written  in  vain.  The  time  had 
at  last  arrived  w  hen  English  artistic  talent,  at  the  touch  of  the 
pencil  of  Hogarth,  was  to  rise  from  its  slumbers,  like  Aurora 
from  the  ocean,  and  illumine  the  canvas  with  all  the  tints  of 
the  morning. 

Hogarth  first  attracted  public  attention  about  the  year  1725. 
Reynolds  appeared  about  twenty-five  years  subsequently.  Con- 
temporary with  Reynolds  were  West  and  Barry  in  the  historical 
department,  Opie  in  history  and  portraiture,  and  Wilson  and 
Gainsborough  in  landscape.  These  early  artists,  with  More- 
land,  Beechy,  Bird,  and  Wright  a  little  later,  with  Lawrence, 
Wilkie,  Turner,  Newton,  Leslie,  Jackson,  Stanfield,  Collins  of 
more  recent  date,  and  others,  familiar  to  the  world,  now  liv- 
ing, form  a  constellation  of  genius  whose  works,  with  all  their 
imperfections,  have  not,  until  within  a  brief  period,  been  equalled 
bv  anything  this  side  of  the  Caracci,  save  by  those  masterly  pro- 
ductions of  the  earlier  French  artists,  Claude,  Poussin,  Greuze, 


ENGLISH   AND    FllEXCH   ART.  141 

and  Wattcan  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  channel,  and  by  Allston, 
and  two  or  three  others  perhaps,  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

A  gi-eat  deal  of  eulogiuni  has  of  late  years  been  bestowed 
npon  the  Germans,  and,  no  doubt,  so  far  as  they  worked  upon 
the  principles  of  the  ftxthers  of  the  art,  they  deserved  it.  But 
we  are  also  continually  hearing  the  praises  of  a  school  of  art 
founded  l)y  them,  called  the  Pre-Kaphaelite,  a  branch  of  which 
exists  in  this  country,  and  another  and  a  much  larger  one  in 
England. 

As  the  King  of  Prussia,  at  the  time  of  its  birth,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  laying  the  corner-stone  of  an  academy  of  art,  went  so  far 
as  to  congratulate  his  audience  and  the  world  on  the  successful 
discovery  of,  or  rather  return  to,  the  only  true  principles  of 
painting,  it  is  to  be  presumed  that  he  did  not  think  much 
of  Da  Vinci,  Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  Titian,  or  Correggio,  their 
associates  and  successors. 

Whether  the  King  of  Prussia  was  or  was  not  a  judge  of  art, 
and  the  new  school  did  or  did  not  deserve  the  compliment,  we 
think  hardly  admits  of  discussion  ;  for  if  it  be,  as  reported,  that 
the  charms  of  color  and  the  magic  of  chiaro-oscuro  are  entirely  re- 
jected from  the  compositions  of  this  school,  the  main  reliance  being 
on  minute  finish  of  each  particular,  however  insignificant,  and  in 
the  more  important  designs  upon  drawing  and  expression,  the 
proposed  object  being  to  restore,  as  they  express  it,  the  sim- 
plicity and  severity  of  the  masters  that  immediately  preceded 
those  who  have  generally  been  considered  the  founders  of  mod- 
ern art,  viz.,  Da  Vinci,  Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  Titian,  and 
Correggio,  then  we  think  they  have  robbed  the  art  of  its  orna- 
ments, of  a  large  portion  of  that  which  makes  it  desirable  and 
attractive,  and  that  even  under  the  fostering  care  of  such 
powerful  supporters  as  Ruskin  it  is  not  destined  to  endure  ; 
for,  however  well  the  dry,  simple,  and  severe  style  of  those  early 
painters,  Cimabue  and  Giotto,  may  suit  the  illustrating  of  such 
subjects  as  they  generally  attempted,  —  religion  in  its  suffering 
characters,  —  it  is  not  fitted  for  the  portrayal  of  those  scenes  of 
familiar  life  and  daily  occurrence  on  which  the  painters  of  the 
present  day  most  frequently  employ  their  pencil.     If  the  Pre- 


142  ENGLISH  AND   FRENCH   ART. 

Raphaelite  painter  of  Germany  and  England  is  merely  going  to 
repeat  what  has  been  done  before,  then  we  think  his  eftort  will 
be  attended  with  small  success ;  for  the  modern  artist  has  not 
that  deep,  intense,  and  holy  enthusiasm  to  nerve  his  hand 
which  inspired  the  pencil  of  those  early  painters. 

Such  persons  need  to  be  reminded  that  the  art  addresses 
itself  to  the  eye  through  the  medium  of  the  picturesque,  as 
w^ell  as  to  the  mind  and  the  affections  through  the  medium 
of  expression ;  and  that  expression  is  assisted  and  only  made  per- 
fect by  the  illusions  of  color  and  light  and  dark,  or  chiaro-oscm'o, 
and  that  he  is  but  a  draughtsman,  not  a  painter,  who  does  not 
rely  upon  those  constituent  parts  of  the  art  as  well  as  upon 
design,  composition,  and  expression. 

The  first  business  of  a  painter  is  to  make  a  picture  to  please 
the  eye ;  the  second,  to  satisfy  the  mind ;  but  the  element  of 
the  beautiful  or  the  picturesque  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  variety. 
How  far  this  variety  shall  be  modified  by  simplicity  or  severity 
—  that  is,  what  shall  be  the  degree  of  the  picturesque  in  any 
subject  of  the  pencil's  imitation  —  must  depend  entirely,  as  be- 
fore demonstrated,  upon  the  nature  of  the  subject,  w^hether 
grave  or  gay,  joyful  or  pathetic,  playful  or  dignified,  tender  or 
severe,  each  requiring  an  entirely  different  treatment  in  every 
constituent  portion  of  the  art. 

This  is  one  of  the  governing  ideas  in  art ;  but  where  it  is  for- 
gotten or  rejected,  and  dogmatism  has  said  that  every  object  of 
the  pencil's  imitation  shall  be  characterized  by  the  severity  and 
dryness  of  Cimabue  and  Giotto,  the  inevitable  consequence  must 
be  either  to  limit  the  subjects  for  painting  to  a  single  class,  or  a 
mannerism  as  unsatisfactory  as  it  is  untrue  and  unnatural. 

There  may  be  some  misunderstanding,  on  our  part,  in  regard 
to  these  German  innovations.  If  its  intention  was  only  to  infuse 
into  modern  art  more  energy  and  vigor,  to  expunge  from  the 
canvas,  as  unworthy  so  divine  an  art  as  that  of  painting,  that 
WTctched,  flimsy  sentimentality  that,  in  its  most  diluted  form, 
finds  its  way  to  the  public  eye  through  the  medium  of  drawing- 
room  scrap-books  and  souvenirs,  why,  well ;  but  if  the  inference 
from  it  is  that  all  changes  made  by  Da  Vinci,  Michael  Angelo, 


ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH   ART.  14o 

Raphael,  Titian,  and  Correggio  were  only  additions,  not  improve- 
ments, false,  meretricious,  and  unnatural,  then  we  think  they 
have  chosen  a  road  that,  the  farther  they  travel  in  it,  will  lead 
them  still  farther  from  excellence. 

There  is  one  branch  of  art  in  which  the  earlier  painters 
find  in  our  own  day  few  competitors  or  rivals,  namely,  fresco 
painting. 

No  legitimate  attempts  after  the  fashion  of  the  old  masters 
have,  that  I  know  of,  been  made  in  the  United  States.  Wall- 
painting  on  a  hard  surface  is  common,  but  not  on  the  green  or 
fresh  plaster,  in  order  that  the  color  may  be  incorporated  and 
dry  with  the  plaster.  It  may  be  otherwise  in  Europe,  but  that 
is  not  important  to  our  present  discussion,  as  it  is  only  regard- 
ing the  execution  of  cabinet  pictures  in  oil  as  a  vehicle  for  colors 
that  we  are  now  to  consider  the  painters  of  England ;  among 
them  none  have  held  a  higher  position,  and  are  better  known 
to  the  public  by  the  numerous  engravings  from  their  works, 
than  Hogarth,  Reynolds,  West,  Lawrence,  and  Wilkie.  It  is 
to  these  distinguished  artists,  as  the  exponents  of  the  natural 
school,  that  the  attention  is  now  invited. 

HOGARTH. 

Of  no  English  painter  has  so  much  been  written  as  of  Ho- 
garth, and  there  is  none  of  whose  merits  there  exists  so  great 
a  difference  of  opinion,  even  among  those  who  claim  to  be  con- 
sidered competent  judges,  for  the  reason  that  no  one  has  been 
estimated  on  principles  so  entirely  opposite.  We  shall  endeavor 
to  dig  him  out  of  this  chaos  of  criticism  and  place  him  in  his 
true  position.  At  the  outset,  we  claim  for  him  the  merit  of 
being  the  first  native  artist  who  proved  practically  that  there 
existed  in  English  history  subjects,  and  in  England  talent,  for 
other  painting  than  portraiture  ;  and,  second,  that  he  was  a 
genius, —  for  he  found  out  a  new  branch  of  art,  as  before  Ho- 
garth there  had  been  nothing  in  his  style  in  any  country  on 
earth. 

This  being  the  case,  it  is  evident  that  in  settling  Hogarth's 


144  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

position  we  are  not  to  judge  him  by  the  same  law  which  we  do 
those  who  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  Italian  masters,  except  in 
the  technic  part  of  the  art,  for  thereby  we  commit  the  same 
error  which  the  French  critics  do  in  judging  Shakespeare  by 
Aristotle's  rules  of  the  drama ;  both  Hogarth  and  Shakespeare 
were  new  creations,  and  brought  their  own  law  with  them. 
"  They  were  a  law  unto  themselves." 

Whoever  has  seen  Hogarth's  paintings,  and  not  the  engravings 
only,  and  is  familiar  with  the  best  of  the  works  of  the  old  mas- 
ters, needs  not  to  be  told  that  in  his  coloring  and  chiaro-oscuro 
Hogarth  bears  no  comparison  with  the  ItaHans,  and  in  the 
drawing  of  the  figure  differs  widely  from  them,  "not  because 
he  paints  low,  but  every-day  life.  His  aim,  however,  was  not 
to  depict  the  sublimity  of  form,  like  them,  nor  the  idealities  of 
form,  like  the  Greeks,  but  to  hold  the  mirror  up  to  nature,  to 
show  vice  its  own  features,  man  his  own  image."  His  manner 
of  doing  this  was  generally  through  the  medium  of  satire,  and 
of  his  success  in  this  there  can  be  but  one  opinion. 

Of  Hogarth's  success  as  an  historical  painter,  in  the  common 
acceptation  of  the  term,  we  cannot  speak  with  any  great  con- 
fidence, as  his  efforts  in  this  department  are  very  limited ;  but 
an  examination  of  his  "  Garrick  as  Richard  III.,"  and  that  other 
composition,  "Paul  before  Felix,"  —  although  the  latter  has 
glaring  defects,  —  constrains  us  to  acknowledge,  that,  had  he 
chosen  to  exercise  this  talent  to  any  extent,  he  might  have 
taken  a  stand,  as  an  historical  painter,  in  advance  of  any  other 
painter  that  has  appeared  in  England. 

"  But  one  swallow  does  not  make  a  summer,"  as  the  proverb 
has  it ;  therefore  it  is  best  to  rest  Hogarth's  fame  on  his  success 
as  a  painter  of  satire,  on  his  finding  out  a  pleasant  and  amusing 
way  of  improving  the  heart. 

Save  in  one  or  two  instances  —  and  "  Paul  before  Felix "  is 
one  of  them  —  Hogarth  gives  little  evidence  of  having  studied 
the  works  of  the  old  masters.  He  is  said  to  have  been  of  the 
opinion  that  such  a  course  led  to  inferiority,  and  cramped  the 
genius ;  but  in  this,  as  a  general  rule,  he  was  doubtless  mis- 
taken, although  the   sentiment  was  right  as  regards  himself. 


•     ENGLISH   AND   FRENXH   ART.  14") 

God  saw  that  man  required  something  new  in  art,  and  he 
made  Hogarth  the  instrument  to  supply  the  deficiency.  Ho- 
garth would  have  been  spoiled  by  education.  Tliere  was,  on 
his  part,  no  need  for  a  master ;  he  was  born  one.  He  was  one 
of  those  rare  geniuses  that  Mature  sends  into  the  world  finished. 
It  is  not  often  that  she  attempts  it,  but  when  she  does  she  suc- 
ceeds to  perfection. 

In  this  respect  Hogarth  resembles  Shakespeare,  and  the  for- 
mer is  as  much  the  national  painter  as  the  latter  was  the 
national  poet  of  Great  Britain;  and  of  both  it  may  be  justly 
said,  in  the  words  of  Garrick,  — 

'  Their  matcliless  works,  of  fame  secure, 

Shall  live,  their  country's  pride  and  boast, 
As  long  as  Nature  shall  endure, 
And  only  in  her  wreck  be  lost." 

WILKIE. 

The  artist  most  resembling  Hogarth  was  Wilkie,  the  j^ainter 
of  "The  Blind  Fiddler,"  "Letter  of  Introduction,"  "Rent-Day," 
"Cut  Finger,"  "Duncan  Gray,"  and  others  well  known  to  the 
public.  We  should  not  have  noticed  him  at  all,  eminent  as  he 
was,  but  for  an  attempt  made  some  years  ago  by  John  Burnett, 
in  his  "  Life  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,"  to  elevate  Wilkie  at  the 
expense  of  Hogarth ;  and  the  reason  why  we  should  have  passed 
him  by  is,  that  he  was  not,  like  Hogarth,  the  discoverer  of  a 
new  branch  of  art,  nor  do  his  works  develop  any  principle  not 
exhibited  in  those  of  the  old  masters  ;  we  use  him  simply  as 
affording  the  best  medium  through  which  to  reach  the  charac- 
teristic features  of  the  style  of  Hogarth.  Burnett  has  been 
severely  rebuked  for  his  injustice  by  a  writer  in  Blackwood's 
Magazine,  and  justly  so,  for  in  point  of  genius  there  can  be  no 
comparison  between  them. 

The  superiority  insisted  upon  by  Burnett  consists,  as  he  says, 
in  Wilkie's  pictures  being  a  general  exhibition  of  manners,  while 
Hogarth's  are  only  isolated,  local  representations,  —  Hogarth  dis- 
playing the  singularities,  Wilkie  the  leading  actions  and  feelings, 
of  life ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  Hogarth  portrayed  only  the 
10 


146  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

changeable  events  of  his  own  time,  Wilkie  such  manners  as 
depend  upon  standing  relations  and  general  passions,  which  are 
coextensive  with  the  race. 

This  is  what  Burnett  says  of  Hogarth,  and  his  opinion  is  only 
one  more  added  to  the  opinion  of  those  who  have  not  been  able 
to  comprehend  the  genius  of  this  master. 

Now,  that  Wilkie's  pictures  are  the  delineations  of  universal 
nature,  of  feelings  and  manners  that  are  not  limited  to  time 
and  place,  must  certainly  be  granted;  for  his  "Rent-Day," 
"  Bhnd  Fiddler,"  "  Letter  of  Introduction,"  "  Cut  Finger,"  "Dun- 
can Gray,"  etc.,  are  the  representations  of  such  scenes  all  the 
world  over,  —  we  mean  as  far  as  the  subject  and  the  expression 
of  the  passions,  feelings,  and  sentiments  are  concerned,  for  op- 
pressive landlords,  rej^ulsive  aristocrats,  cut  fingers,  and  gentle 
wooers  are  not  particularly  English.  They  are  to  be  found  in 
every  coimtry  and  at  all  times;  and  the  feelings  they  excite 
are  the  same  in  the  breast  of  one  person  as  another. 

And  so  with  Hogarth's  productions.  His  "  Marriage  a  la 
Mode,"  "Rake's  Progress,"  "Industry  and  Idleness,"  and  many 
others,  are  delineations  of  scenes  and  feelings  not  peculiar  to 
his  own  age  or  country ;  for  mercenary  marriages,  marriages  for 
a  settlement,  industrious  and  lazy  apprentices,  and  profligate 
young  men  are  to  be  found  in  all  climes  and  at  all  periods. 
And  it  must  continue  to  be  so  as  long  as  there  are  mercenary 
parents,  obstinate  daughters,  dissipated  sons,  and  thoughtless  as 
well  as  prudent  clerks  ;  and  such  will  always  be  the  case  until 
human  nature  ceases  to  be  swayed  by  other  than  proper  motives 
and  wholesome  influences. 

Hogarth  is  of  time  and  place  —  that  is,  local  —  only  in  his 
costume.  It  is  this  which  has  so  egregiously  misled  the  critics. 
They  have  looked  at  the  binding  of  the  book,  rather  than  to 
its  contents ;  to  the  clothes  the  man  wears,  rather  than  to  his 
actions  and  character.  The  passions  that  Hogarth  delineates 
and  his  mode  of  expressing  them  are  coeval  with  the  human 
race  ;  and  hence  the  difference,  as  we  shall  by  and  by  point 
out,  between  Hogarth  and  the  French  painters  of  the  school  of 
David. 


ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART.  147 

To  repeat,  the  passions,  feelings,  sentiments,  etc.,  that  Ho 
garth  dehneates,  and  his  manner  of  expressing  them,  are  not 
local,  and  the  evidence  of  this  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that 
his  paintings  awaken  sympathy  in  the  bosom  of  every  spectator 
not  only  of  the  English  spectator,  but  of  every  other  country  ; 
and  this  being  so,  it  follows  that  in  his  art  he  is  natural,  and, 
because  natural  not  local,  but  imiversal,  although  his  costume, 
being  local,  has  hindered  the  general  perception  of  this  truth. 
The  real  difference  between  Wilkie  and  Hogarth  we  apprehend 
to  be  this  :  "  The  latter  is  less  ideal  than  the  former.  There  is 
also  more  refinement,  more  delicacy,  in  Wilkie  than  in  Hogarth, 
less  breadth  of  humor,  more  tenderness,  though  not  a  greater 
depth  of  feeling. 

"They  resemble  each  other  in  that,  generally,  they  painted 
common,  not  vulgar  life,  in  which  respect  they  both  differed  from 
the  Dutch  and  Flemish  masters  ;  but  a  more  striking  difference, 
particularly  between  Wilkie  and  the  Dutch  and  Flemish  masters, 
is  the  entire  deficiency  of  that  delightful  sentiment  that  the  Eng- 
lish artist  has  so  successfully  spread  over  his  most  lowly  scenes." 
Take  almost  any  of  his  productions,  —  his  "Dimcan  Gray,"  for 
example,  —  and  place  it  by  any  effort  of  the  Dutch  and  Flemings, 
and  you  will  at  once  understand  the  great  excellence  of  Wilkie 
and  the  justice  of  this  criticism. 

There  are  other  distinguishing  characteristics  of  this  great 
painter,  but  we  have  not  time  to  notice  them;  still,  although 
they  show  still  further  his  supferiority  to  the  Flemings  and 
Dutch,  they  leave  no  doubt  whatever  of  the  inferiority  of  his 
genius  to  that  of  Hogarth,  or  of  his  indebtedness  to  that  mas- 
ter ;  for,  after  all  that  can  be  said  of  him,  he  did  but  explore 
and  richly  cultivate  a  country  of  which  Hogarth  was  the  dis- 
coverer. He  may  have  travelled  farther  into  the  interior  in  a 
finer  carriage  and  in  better  company  ;  but  Hogarth  pointed  out 
to  him  the  way,  and  furnished  him  with  a  portion  of  the  means 
w^ith  which  to  perform  the  journey. 

It  is  not  often  that  the  pioneer  in  any  invention,  discovery, 
or  improvement  gets  his  full  share  of  the  glory.  Fuseli  has 
fiuelv  said  of  Columbus  that  he  was  the  father,  as  it  were,  of 


148  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

this  continent,  but  Amerigo  Vespucci  gave  it  its  name  ;  and 
yet  Columbus,  when  by  physical  and  astronomic  calculations 
he  concluded  to  the  existence  of  land  in  an  opposite  hemi- 
sphere, was,  in  fact,  the  author  or  cause  of  all  the  discoveries 
made  by  subsequent  navigators. 

So  we  may  say  of  Hogarth's  art,  no  matter  what  improve- 
ments may  have  been  ingi-afted  upon  it  by  others,  they  must 
all  date  their  origin  from  that  master.  They  did  but  give 
variations  to  an  air  originally  composed  by  Hogarth. 

SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS. 

It  is  not  our  intention  to  say  much  of  this  distinguished 
painter  and  accomplished  gentleman.  The  necessity  for  it  is 
superseded  by  his  general  notoriety,  —  a  notoriety  for  which 
he  is  scarcely  less  indebted  to  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  and  other 
members  of  the  great  literary  club  of  that  period,  than  to  his 
discourses,  which,  although  sometimes  rendered  obscure  to  the 
general  scholar  by  the  technicalities  of  the  art,  are  upon  the 
whole  so  admirably  written  as  to  engage,  not  the  attention  of 
artists  only,  but  likewise  that  of  the  public  at  large,  to  such  a 
degree  that  "there  can  hardly  be  found  an  individual  who 
claims  any  acquaintance  with  general  literature  who  has  not 
in  his  library,  or  has  at  least  read,  the  Lectures  of  Sir  Joshua 
Eej^nolds." 

Notwithstanding  Hogarth  was  Reynolds's  predecessor  by  nearly 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  he  is  not  considered  to  be  the  founder 
of  tlie  English  school.  That  merit,  we  think,  improperl}^  at- 
taches to  Reynolds.  It  is  generally  conceded  that  as  an  his- 
torical painter  Reynolds  does  not  rank  high.  His  "  Ugolino," 
the  Italian  count  who  with  his  children  perished  of  hunger  in 
a  dungeon,  has  been  considered  a  failure.  His  "  Holy  Family  " 
has  little  more  than  the  charm  of  novelty.  In  his  "  Cardinal 
Beaufort  "  he  reached  a  high  degree  of  excellence.  His  "  Ban- 
ished Lord,"  a  copy  of  which  is  owned  by  the  Boston  Athe- 
naeum, is  universally  acknowledged  to  be  a  splendid  effort,  for 
a  single  figure  ;  his  master  effort,  however,  in  this  department, 


ENGLISH    AND    FRENCH   ART.  149 

is  Mrs.  Siddons  as  "The  Tragic  Muse,"  which  (if  so  large  a  com- 
position, with  its  symbohc  accompaniment,  is  to  be  regarded 
as  a  portrait)  Lawrence  has  pronounced  the  finest  in  existence. 
There  are  those  who  think  they  can  trace  in  it  something  of  the 
manner  of  Michael  Angelo  in  his  sibyls  and  prophets ;  nor 
would  this  be  at  all  surprising,  as  from  the  period  of  his  first 
visit  to  Rome,  before  he  arrived  at  manhood,  he  was  a  constant 
and  studious  admirer  of  that  great  master.  It  is  stated  in 
Blackwood's  Magazine,  that  when  Wilkie,  Phillips,  Hilton,  and 
Cooke,  English  painters,  visited  the  Sistine  Chapel  in  1825,  they 
were  struck  b}^  the  resemblance,  in  heads  and  figures,  gi'oups 
and  hues  of  color,  to  many  of  Michael  Angelo's  pictures,  but 
that  they  were  the  more  especially  impressed  by  the  simi- 
larity of  the  "  high  aim  and  the  power  of  expressing  the  deep 
thoughts  of  the  in^vard  man,"  that  now  gives  to  Reynolds's  works 
their  greatest  value.  It  was  mainly  through  the  principles  ac- 
quired in  the  Vatican  that  he  restored  a  degraded  dejDartment 
of  painting  to  its  former  splendor.  It  was  in  the  Vatican  that 
he  imbibed  the  general  greatness  of  his  style  ;  it  was  there  that 
he  obtained  his  power  of  investing  his  figures  with  innate  dig- 
nity and  grace  ;  it  was  there  that  he  learned  to  rise  in  the  repre- 
sentation of  mental  qualities  to  the  height  of  the  real,  or  to  soar 
into  the  regions  of  the  ideal.  One  who  is  familiar  with  his 
works  cannot  have  failed  to  observe  how  numerous  are  the 
mental  states  he  has  depicted,  which  no  other  artist  had  at- 
tempted, and  the  difi'erent  phases  of  the  same  passion  and  sen- 
timent. This  is  well  illustrated  by  his  portrait  of  the  brave 
Commodore  Keppel,  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  no  less 
brave  General  Eliott  (Lord  Heathfield).  .  The  Commodore  had 
been  shipwrecked  wdien  he  was  but  twenty-one  years  of  age. 
The  painter  has  represented  him  walking  quickly  along  the 
shore,  and,  as  he  points  with  one  hand  to  an  object  out  of  the 
picture,  he  is  evidently  delivering  with  rapid  energy  some  press- 
ing order  required  by  the  emergency. 

The  accessories  are  in  keeping  with  the  incident,  —  a  rocky 
coast,  a  stormy  sea,  and  tempestuous  clouds.  The  hero  is  de- 
picted with  the  elasticity  of  youth  ;  his  coimtenance  teems  with 


150  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

fire,  and  his  face  and  actions  are  alike  indicative  of  the  impetuous 
urgency  demanded  by  a  sudden  crisis. 

Lord  Heathfield  was  past  sixty  when  the  siege  of  Gibraltar 
commenced,  and  it  lasted  four  years.  He  stands  upon  a  rock, 
holding  the  key  of  the  fortress,  with  the  chain  attached  to  the 
key  twice  twisted  round  his  hand.  The  calm  courage  of  age, 
the  lasting  power  of  endurance,  the  fixed  purpose  never  to  yield, 
are  here  exchanged  for  juvenile  spirit  and  impulsive  ardor.  The 
iron  grasp  of  the  hand,  the  commanding  carriage  of  the  head,  the 
resolute  confidence  of  the  eyes,  the  dogged  determination  of  the 
mouth,  all  bespeak  his  self-possessed  defiance  and  unchange- 
able tenacity.  No  two  phases  of  heroism  could  be  more  ap- 
propriate and  more  distinct.  It  was  never  excelled  even  by 
Velasquez. 

And  then  his  representations  of  the  high-bred  women  of  Eng- 
land, —  so  stately,  graceful,  and  elegant ;  such  variety  in  their 
attitudes,  always  indicating  delicacy  and  refinement ;  and  their 
expression,  always  sufficiently  characteristic  for  individuality,  but 
still  with  that  breadth  that  attaches  to  general  beauty.  Among 
the  vast  variety  of  expression  in  his  female  heads,  the  most  fre- 
quent is  some  form  of  pensive  tenderness.  They  are  steeped 
in  exquisite  poetry,  and  possess  the  same  enchanting  union  of 
truth  and  loveliness  which  charm  us  in  the  creation  of  the 
poet. 

"Reynolds,"  says  Leslie,  "never  appears  more  in  his  glory  than 
in  his  paintings  of  children.  In  spite  of  the  host  of  affections 
that  gather  round  the  young,  this  singularly  winning  and  pic- 
turesque stage  of  life  had  been  almost  overlooked  by  preceding 
masters.  The  painters  of  religious  subjects  represented  children 
as  seraphic  beings,  and  the  painters  of  portraits  represented  them 
with  tlie  formal  air  which  they  wore  when  they  sat  for  their 
pictures.  The  happy  idea  occurred  to  Reynolds  of  representing 
them  as  they  are  seen  in  their  daily  doings.  He  presents  them  to 
us  in  their  games,  their  pursuits,  their  glee  and  their  gravity,  their 
archness  and  their  artlessness,  their  spirit  and  their  shyness  ;  the 
seriousness  with  which  they  engage  in  their  little  occupations, 
and  tho  sweet  and  holy  innocence,  are  all  embodied  with  unri- 


ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH   ART.  151 

vailed  felicity.  No  one  ever  surpassed  him  in  his  love  for  chil- 
dren, and  liere  is  the  secret  of  his  success. 

"  Nor  did  his  hand  lose  its  cunning  in  passing  from  the  soft- 
est gi-aces  of  women  and  children  to  the  attributes  of  men.  His 
male  heads  abound  with  masculine  vigor,  and  are  discriminated 
by  the  strongest  traits  of  individuality." 

The  aim  of  most  portrait-painters  is  confined  to  external  like- 
ness ;  but  likeness  of  feature  was  the  least  achievement  of  Rey- 
nolds. His  was  the  deeper  and  nobler  aim,  the  personification 
of  character. 

Reynolds  was  peculiarly  happy  in  the  attitudes  of  his  figures. 
They  have  the  never-failing  accompaniment  of  grace  and  dignity, 
and  they  are  always  in  unison  with  the  expression  of  the  coun- 
tenance. His  figures  are  quite  as  much  portraits  as  his  fiices, 
and  the  attitudes  are  always  characteristic  of  the  originals. 
His  choicest  productions  have  always  the  beauty  of  extreme  sim- 
2oliciti/.  These  are  qualities  that  have  been  rarely  if  ever  found 
united  in  any  other  artist  in  this  department  of  painting,  and 
they  render  him  the  greatest  portrait-painter  that  has  yet  ap- 
peared in  England  since  Van  Dyck,  and  a  perfect  model  for  imi- 
tation. 

The  greatest  portrait-painter  that  has  appeared  in  England, 
and  perhaps  in  any  country,  since  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  was 
Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  The  question  is  often  asked,  How  does 
he  compare  wdth  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  1  and  it  is  not  difficult  to 
answer  it.  On  the  whole,  he  is  much  his  inferior.  In  the  rep- 
resentation of  females  he  comes  well  u^)  to  Reynolds,  and  in  his 
delineation  of  children  he  is  very,  successful ;  but  in  his  por- 
traits of  men  he  falls  far  below  him.  His  female  portraits  have 
a  YCYj  fashionable  and  gi^aceful  air  about  them,  and  his  male 
portraits  are  exceedingly  genteel,  but  they  want  that  dignified 
and  lofty  air  of  conscious  superiority  that  characterizes  the  por- 
traits of  Reynolds. 

One  of  Reynolds's  greatest  excellences  was  his  color,  in  which 
particular  Lawrence  was  not  distinguished.  The  coloring  of 
LawTence  has  much  brilliancy,  but  it  is  that  of  silver.  Rey- 
nolds's brilliancy  was  that  of  gold.     By  the  side  of  the  gi'eat 


152  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

painters  of  the  Venetian  school,  the  coloring  of  Lav^Tence  is  cold 
and  faded  ;  if  it  shines  at  all,  it  is  only  as  a  star  at  midday. 
Reynolds,  by  the  side  of  the  old  masters,  shines  as  a  star  at 
night,  but  it  is  one  of  the  second  magnitude.  It  was  suffi- 
ciently resplendent,  however,  to  make  him  "  the  observed  of 
all  observers  "  in  his  lifetime  ;  it  certainly  has  not  missed  the 
backward  and  upward  gaze  of  posterity. 

BENJAMIN  WEST. 

We  come  next,  in  the  continuation  of  the  subject  of  modern 
art,  to  speak  of  two  painters  who  forty  years  ago  held  a  posi- 
tion in  the  public  estimation  but  little  inferior  to  that  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  Raphael,  and  who  in  these  latter  da3^s  exercised  in 
England  and  France  a  much  gi^eater  influence  upon  art,  but 
whether  justly  or  not  will  the  better  appear  at  the  close  of  our 
examination.  They  have  both  almost  passed  from  memory,  and 
one  hears  as  little  of  their  once  great  fame  as  if  they  had  never 
existed.  We  refer  to  Sir  Benjamin  West  and  the  French  painter, 
David. 

West  was  born  of  Quaker  parents  in  Philadelphia,  and  left 
this  country  w^hen  a  boy,  some  time  before  or  at  the  close  of 
the  Revolution,  to  pursue  his  studies  as  an  artist  in  Europe, 
and  subsequently,  in  the  reign  of  George  III.,  became  President 
of  the  Royal  English  Academy,  after  the  retirement  of  Rejaiolds ; 
he  died  about  the  year  1820,  and  was  succeeded  by  Sir  Thomas 
Lawrence.  David  was  for  many  years  President  of  the  French 
Academy  of  Art  under  Napoleon,  and  died  at  Brussels  in  1825. 
He  was  exiled  from  his  native  land  by  a  decree  of  the  Bourbons 
after  their  restoration,  having  been  one  of  the  Assembly  that 
condemned  and  executed  Louis  XVI. 

There  was  one  feature  in  Mr.  West's  character  that  ought  to 
endear  him  to  the  people  of  the  United  States,  namely,  that, 
although  a  resident  for  sixty  years  of  another  country,  the  be- 
loved of  the  king  and  the  adored  of  the  people,  he  never  "for- 
got Jerusalem  " ;  but  it  could  not  have  been  otherwise  with  one 
whose  private  character  was  so  pure  and  beautiful  and  above 


ENGLISH    AND   FRENCH   ART.  153 

reproach ;  and,  besides,  there  was  something  so  venerable  and 
apostohc  in  his  personal  appearance  that  we  approach  him  with 
a  feeling  of  reverence  and  respect  not  unlike  that  with  which 
we  should  enter  some  ancient,  half-ruined  cathedral,  though 
simply  to  study  its  proportions,  and  not  for  the  purposes  of 
devotion. 

It  is  not  our  present  business,  however,  to  speak  of  his  many 
private  virtues,  but  to  take  his  dimensions  as  an  artist  that  once 
stood  in  public  opinion,  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  at  the 
very  head  of  his  profession,  but  whose  depression  has  for  some 
years  past  been  at  a  point  almost  con-esponding  to  his  former 
elevation,  thus  furnishing  a  striking  evidence  of  the  fickleness 
and  apparent  cruelty  of  that  fortune  which  but  too  often  takes 
its  victim  to  the  Capitol,  that  it  may  the  more  conveniently 
dash*  him  from  the  Tarpeian  rock. 

That  West  should  have  thus  fallen  in  public  estimation 
appears  very  remarkable  to  the  few  living  Americans  who 
remember  him  as  the  author  of  those  once  celebrated  pic- 
tures, "Death  upon  the  Pale  Horse,"  "Christ  before  Pilate," 
"Christ  healing  the  Sick,"  —  paintings  that  were  among  the 
wonders  of  our  childhood ;  but  so  it  is,  and  if  any  irrefutable 
evidence  were  wanting  to  support  the  assertion,  it  is  supplied 
by  the  ftict,  in  addition  to  the  long-continued  unbroken  silence 
respecting  him,  that  at  the  sale  of  his  paintings  in  the  year 
1830,  not  long  after  his  decease,  at  his  gallery  in  London,  the 
picture  of  "  Death  upon  the  Pale  Horse,"  for  which  in  his  life- 
time he  refused  fifty  thousand  dollars,  —  and  the  admission- 
money  to  see  which,  when  on  exhibition,  exceeded  that  sum,  — 
was  bid  in  by  the  family  for  about  eight  thousand  dollars,  and 
afterwards  sold  to  the  Pennsylvania  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  for  a 
sum  far  below  it.  There  were  but  few  of  his  pictures  disposed 
of  at  the  London  sale,  and  at  sums  proportionally  limited.  We 
attended  the  sale,  and  speak  from  our  own  knowledge. 

From  this  remark  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  such  was  the 
intrinsic  value  of  his  paintings,  for  it  is  generally  conceded  by 
good  judges  that  Mr.  West  is  as  much  underrated  now  as  he 
was  overrated  in  his  lifetime.     We  onlv  mention  it  as  a  fact, 


154  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

and  one  not  very  creditable  to  the  discernment  of  the  British 
people  ;  for  it  was  only  a  few  years  previous  that  he  was  thought 
to  have  wrested  the  palm  even  from  the  old  masters  themselves, 
and  the  honor  paid  him  by  both  sovereign  and  people  was  equal 
to  this  appreciation  of  his  abilities.  But  public  opinion,  as  al- 
ready stated,  has  long  since  changed  in  England,  and  Mr.  West, 
although  admitted  to  have  exhibited  eminent  ability  in  many  of 
his  earlier  and  unscriptural  subjects,  is  now  thought  to  have  at- 
tempted more  than  he  could  accomplish  in  what  were  once  con- 
sidered his  finest  efforts. 

The  composition  is  allowed  to  have  been  good ;  the  drawing 
of  the  figures  correct,  and  without  that  statue-like  apjDearance 
so  universal  in  the  French  school  of  David  of  that  period.  This 
the  transatlantic  critics  concede  to  West ;  but  then,  again,  they 
urge,  that,  to  animate  this  framework,  to  inspire  these  moulds 
of  form  and  emblems  of  intelligence  with  action  and  sentiment, 
the  touch  of  that  genius,  to  whose  final  aim  external  science 
furnishes  the  bare  instrument,  is  wanting.  The  representation, 
they  acknowledge,  is  chaste,  but  it  is  too  often,  they  say,  a  rep- 
resentation. There  wants  the  informing  mind.,  which  gives  to 
art  its  truest,  only  mastery  over  the  human  spirit.  Resolve 
the  whole  into  detail,  examine  every  figure,  asking  for  what 
purpose  it  has  been  introduced  and  what  aid  it  gives  the  story, 
and  one  then,  it  is  contended,  not  only  feels,  but  sees,  the  de- 
ficiency. 

Mr.  West's  coloring  is  also  considered  to  have  been  very  de- 
fective ;  of  this  he  was  himself  little  conscious,  but,  w^hat- 
ever  injustice  may  have  been  done  him  in  other  respects,  all 
must  concede  that  he  was  not  a  colorist  after  the  manner  of 
Titian. 

It  is  rarely  that  a  man  of  eminent  ability  is  estimated  at  his 
proper  value  during  his  lifetime,  but  we  know^  of  no  greater  revo- 
lution of  opinion  than  has  taken  place  in  regard  to  Mr.  West. 

There  have  been  frequent  attempts  to  account  for  thi's  change. 
A  German  critic  fancied  that  what  were  once  considered  his  best 
efforts  were  attractive  to  Englishmen  because  the  subjects  of 
them  were  taken  from  the  Bible ;  but  an  English  critic,  in  reply, 


ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH   ART.  155 

says  that  it  was  not  so  much  because  they  were  taken  from  the 
Bible,  as  that  the  subjects  of  most  of  them  came  home  to  the 
feelings  of  Englishmen. 

Now  this  may  in  a  measure  account  for  their  popularity  at 
the  time,  even  supposing  that  there  were  some  prominent  de- 
fects in  their  mechanical  execution,  but,  if  it  was  a  complete 
solution  of  the  question,  that  influence  ought  still  to  con- 
tinue to  operate ;  as  it  does  not,  we  must  seek  a  solution 
elsewhere,  and  we  think  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  influence  that 
always  attaches,  in  monarchical  governments,  to  the  opinions  of 
the  king  in  matters  of  taste,  and,  in  this  instance,  to  the  over- 
value placed  upon  Mr.  West's  efl'orts  by  his  munificent  patron, 
George  III.,  who  not  only  had  the  highest  appreciation  of  him 
as  an  artist,  but  also  a  very  strong  personal  attachment  to  him 
as  a  man. 

Now  whether  George  III.  was  or  was  not  a  judge  of  art, 
whether  he  was  or  was  not  right  in  his  estimate,  does  not  at 
all  aftect  the  question ;  it  was  enough  that  he  thought  favor- 
ably of  Mr.  West.  These  opinions  were  as  a  matter  of  duty  and 
policy  caught  up  by  the  nobles,  as  a  matter  of  imitation  were 
echoed  back  by  the  people,  and  so  continued  without  any  dimi- 
nution or  variation  until  the  government  came  under  the  con- 
trol of  George  IV.,  and  he  countermanded  the  orders  for  numer- 
cnis  paintings  which  West  had  been  commissioned  by  George  TIL 
to  execute,  when  public  opinion  immediately  changed,  and  West's 
popularity  descended  to  the  horizon  more  rapidly  than  it  had 
ascended  to  the  zenith. 

West's  popularity,  therefore,  at  one  time,  and  his  unpopular- 
ity *now,  are  not  to  be  regarded  as  any  proof  of  either  merit  or 
demerit. 

West's  popularity  in  this  country  at  the  time  may  be  par- 
tially accounted  for  by  his  American  origin,  and  our  willingness 
to  receive  then,  as  correct  in  matters  of  taste,  any  opinions  that 
had  been  indorsed  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  And  it 
was  some  slight  gratification  to  our  pride  to  know  that  a  native- 
bom  American  was  President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  as  it  im- 
plied, whether  justly  or  not,  the  inferiority  of  native  English 


156  ENGLISH  AND   FRENCH  ART. 

artists ;  and  this  verj  circumstance  of  West's  American  origin 
doubtless  had  a  great  influence  upon  George  IV.,  for  he  had  a 
deep-seated  hatred  of  everything  connected  with  a  democratic 
government,  and  consequently  an  indirect  influence  on  the 
public. 

The  present  low  estimate  of  Mr.  West's  once  poj)ular  pro- 
ductions, however,  is  not  confined  to  England,  but  has  long 
since  found  support  in  the  opinion  of  competent  German  critics. 
We  therefore  apprehend  that  a  better  reason  for  it  is  to  be 
found  in  the  circumstance  that  it  w^as  not  until  after  the  Ml 
of  Napoleon,  and  Italy  was  throw^n  open  to  British  travellers, 
that  West  was  brought  in  such  direct  comparison  with  the  old 
m,asters,  —  a  comparison  that  was  the  more  direct,  when,  after 
Mr.  West's  decease,  two  of  his  grandest  paintings,  "  Christ  heal- 
ing the  Sick  "  and  "  The  Last  Supper,"  were  hung  in  the  National 
Gallery  by  the  side  of  Michael  Angelo's  amazing  production, 
"The  Raising  of  Lazarus,"  and  other  old  paintings  of  acknowl- 
edged merit. 

This  was  a  severe  test,  and  it  must  be  confessed,  even  by 
those  most  partial  to  Mr.  West,  that  the  comparison  establishes 
his  ■  inferiority  past  all  dispute.  We  speak  from  our  own  ob- 
servation. 

West's  inferiority,  as  compared  with  modern  art,  is  not  so 
much  insisted  on.  It  was  the  opinion  of  Lawrence,  that,  with 
few  exceptions,  —  the  claims  of  the  beautiful  and  the  eminent 
permitted  to  the  pencil  of  Reynolds,  —  West's  scriptural  produc- 
tions are  not  only  superior  to  any  previous  essays  of  English 
art  in  this  depai-tment,  but  surpass  contemporary  effort  on 
the  Continent. 

West's  earlier  efforts  were  upon  unscriptural  themes,  and  in 
these  no  one  disputes  his  great  excellence.  "The  Death  of 
Wolfe,"  "  The  Battle  of  La  Hogue,"  "  The  Death  of  the  Stag," 
"The  Institution  of  the  Garter,"  "The  Calypso,"  and  "The 
Return  of  Regulus,"  were  pronounced  admirable  productions 
at  the  time  they  were  painted,  and  are  as  highly  and  univer- 
sally appreciated  now ;  but  still  Mr.  West  is  not,  as  formerly, 
in  the  public  mind  as  a  great  artist. 


ENGLISH   AND   FllENCH   ART.  157 

Taking,  however,  into  view  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case, 
the  low  state  of  historical  painting  when  he  first  attracted  imh- 
lic  attention,  and  the  undisputed  excellence  of  his  earlier  essays, 
such,  even,  as  were  on  scriptural  themes,  and  the  superiority  of 
the  latter  as  compared  with  modern  productions  in  the  same 
department,  we  cannot  but  be  impressed  with  the  conviction 
and  assurance  that  amid  the  smouldering  ashes  of  his  once 
great  fame  there  lingers  a  spark  that  shall  kindle  anew,  and 
although  it  may  not  again  burn  with  its  original  splendor,  it 
shall  glow  with  sufficient  brilliancy  to  light  him  onward  in  the 
pathway  to  glory. 

DAVID. 

The  contemporary  of  West,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Channel, 
was  David,  the  Frenchman,  the  regicide,  the  revolutionist,  the 
artist  who  may  be  said  to  have  painted  with  blood ;  for  of  all 
his  delineations,  from  that  of  the  "  bloody,  bold,  and  desperate 
Marat "  to  the  "murder  of  the  gentle  Abel,"  there  is  scarcely  a 
single  one  that  does  not  seem  to  be  literally  overflowing  with 
the  crimson  current  of  life.  They  called  him  "the  painter  to 
the  Emperor  of  France  " ;  rather  should  he  have  been  called 
"  painter  to  the  King  of  Terrors." 

We  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  preface  the  remarks  that  we 
shall  make  on  this  artist  with  an}'  notice,  however  brief,  of  the 
condition,  early  or  late,  of  the  arts  in  France ;  nor  shall  we  even 
enumerate  his  productions.  He  is  sufficiently  known  in  this 
country  —  to  the  older  portion  of  it  —  by  common  report,  and 
by  two  paintings  exhibited  in  the  United  States  some  years 
since,  namely,  "  The  Coronation  of  Napoleon,"  and  "  Cain  medi- 
tating the  Death  of  Abel,"  —  the  one  a  true  historical  deli)ieation 
of  that  memorable  transaction,  the  other  more  French  than 
Asiatic  in  the  style  of  meditating  a  murder.  We  only  men- 
tion David  at  all,  because  he  was  the  immediate  rival  and  con- 
temporary of  West,  and  the  once  popular  founder  of  a  school 
of  art,  that,  by  its  affected  and  theatrical  attitudes,  its  forced, 
unnatural,  and  exaggerated  mode  of  expressing  the  passions, 
feelings,  sentiments,  and  affections  of  our  nature,  did,  notwith- 


158  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH  ART. 

standing  the  acknowledged  genius  of  its  head,  abnost  as  much 
to  hinder  the  formation  of  a  pure  taste  in  art  as  French  ideas 
on  certain  subjects  and  French  dancing  have  done  to  corrupt 
pure  sentiment. 

French  art,  subsequent  to  the  time  of  Poussin,  Claude,  Greuze, 
Joseph  Vernet,  and  their  contemporaries,  up  to  within  a  very 
limited  period,  was  false,  untrue,  meretricious,  resulting  from 
the  neglect  or  abandonment  of  nature,  not  French  but  universal 
nature,  by  which  is  meant  the  permanent,  general  principles 
which  God  stamped  on  man  at  creation,  and  which  constitute 
the  original  elements  of  his  being.  We  repeat,  the  original  ele- 
ments of  our  being,  and  by  that  we  intend  not  only  the  pas- 
sions and  affections,  sentiments  and  feelings,  that  belong  to  us 
as  men,  but  also  the  mode  or  manner  of  manifesting  them ;  for, 
when  the  Almighty  planted  these  in  the  human  constitution, 
he  also  gave  us  a  certain  mode  of  expressing  them,  to  every 
inward  emotion  an  outward  corresponding  action,  gesture,  and 
attitude  ;  and  whoever,  in  real  life  or  in  art,  would  express 
himself  effectively  and  with  propriety,  or  —  which  is  the  same 
thing  —  naturally,  must  do  it  agreeably  to  those  original  prin- 
ciples,—  for  every  variation  from  this  manner  is  a  modification 
of  nature  and  a  defect,  just  as  all  national  and  family  resem- 
blances are  a  departure  from  and  modification  of  the  lines  of 
beauty  or  that  general  form  which  God  gave  man  at  creation. 
Now  French  art,  until  within  a  limited  period,  with  few  excep- 
tions, and  those  very  remarkable,  exhibited  an  abandonment  of 
this  universality  or  naturalness  of  expression,  was  a  transcript 
of  French  character  and  manner,  and  so  faithfully  coj^ied  in  the 
school  of  David,  that,  when  w^e  viewed  one  of  their  pictorial 
delineations,  we  saw,  if  not  what  a  native  of  that  country 
would  have  done,  yet  the  manner  in  which  it  would  have 
been  performed  by  a  Frenchman,  and  not  the  manner  in 
which  a  member  of  the  gi'eat  human  family  ought  to  have  per- 
formed it.  Whether  it  was  Greek,  Jew,  or  Arabian,  Ger- 
man or  Italian,  African  or  Asiatic,  that  was  the  subject  of 
their  pencil,  he  became  transformed,  in  manner,  attitude,  and 
gesture,  by  a  single  dash,  into  a  legitimate  Frenchman ;  but  in 


ENGLISH  AND   FRENCH   ART.  159 

everything  a  Frenchman  of  that  period  "overstepped  the  mod- 
esty of  nature,  tore  a  passion  to  rags,  to  very  tatters " ;  conse- 
quently, everythhig  in  a  French  picture  coming  from  that 
school  was  ultra,  extravagant,  and  entitled  it  to  be  called 
the  inmatural  school,  or  school  of  affectation. 

These  extravagances  of  attitiide,  gesture,  and  expression 
pleased  the  French  because  they  were  a  transcript  of  French 
manners,  of  what  they  from  familiarity  with  false  modes  had 
got  to  regard  as  natural ;  but  they  did  not  equally  strike  home 
to  the  feelings  of  others.  Voltaire  has  said  that  "  a  nation  may 
have  a  poetry  and  a  music  pleasing  to  themselves  alone  and  yet 
good,  but  in  painting,  although  their  geftius  may  be  peculiar,  it 
can  be  genuine  only  as  it  is  prized  by  all  the  world,"  — which  un- 
doubtedly is  con-ect ;  but  it  will  be  j)rized  by  all  the  world  only 
as  it  is  universal,  and  it  will  be  universal  only  as  it  is  natural, 
and  it  will  be  natural  only  as  it  divests  itself  of  everything 
purely  local ;  for  the  highest  art  is  not  to  delineate  the  man 
French,  or  the  man  Greek,  but  the  man  natural,  the  man 
universal. 

It  is  the  representation  of  these  permanent  general  principles 
of  expression  which  characterizes  the  works  of  the  great  Italian 
masters,  and  which  is  found  in  such  perfection  in  Grecian  art. 
In  short,  it  is  the  great  leading  principle  on  which  all  the  works 
of  genius  are  conducted.  It  particularly  distinguishes  all  true 
poets ;  it  marks  every  page  of  Shakespeare.  His  lago  is  not  an 
Italian,  his  Othello  a  Moor,  his  Lear"  an  Englishman,  or  his 
Hamlet  a  Dane,  they  are  citizens  of  the  world,  the  mouth- 
pieces only  of  universal  feelings,  of  universal  sentiments. 

There  is  in  the  Lou\Te  a  portrait,  by  Van  Dyck,  of  a  mother 
and  her  child  ;  in  the  latter  almost  every  one  thinks  he  dis- 
covers some  resemblance  to  a  child  of  his  acquaintance.  How 
is  this  ?  It  is  an  exact  resemblance  of  a  beautiful  English  girl. 
Whence,  then,  this  discovered  resemblance  1  Simply  because  it 
is  true  to  nature,  both  in  its  attitude  and  expression ;  unaf- 
fected, universal  childhood  is  there  ;  of  this  she  is  the  true 
representative ;  and  it  is  in  every  other  child,  until  it  is  driven 
out  by  the  dancing-master  and  a  false  education. 


160  ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH   ART. 

In  our  discourse  on  the  different  classes  of  painting,  when 
describing  the  different  kinds  of  landscape,  we  directed  atten- 
tion to  a  picture  by  Poussin,  an  early  French  painter,  represent- 
ing a  scene  in  the  Deluge.  The  original  may  be  seen  in  the 
Louvre,  among  the  works  of  the  old  masters. 

In  another  part  of  the  hall  may  be  seen  a  painting  on  the 
same  subject  by  Girodet,  a  distinguished  pupil  of  the  David 
school. 

Poussin's  design  represents  "a  wild,  mountainous  country, 
which  the  ever-rising  waters  have  nearly  covered.  The  ark 
is  seen  floating  afar  off,  and  a  solitary  flash  of  lightning,  shown 
dimty  through  the  tlii6k  rain,  breaks  across  the  lurid  clouds  in 
the  distance. 

"Among  the  dull,  bleak  rocks  in  front  a  monstrous  serpent 
winds  its  way  slowly  up,  to  avoid  the  growing  waves.  The 
sky  lowers  upon  the  earth,  the  earth  looks  heavily  back  to 
the  sky ;  all  is  wild,  silent,  and  solemn,  —  one  aw^ful  gloom  and 
mighty  desolation."     This  is  Poussin. 

Girodet's  composition  represents  "  a  man,  with  his  father  upon 
his  back,  —  certainly  in  not  the  most  picturesque  attitude,  — 
who,  whilst  with  one  hand  he  clasps  the  breaking  branch  of  a 
tree,  with  the  other  pulls  his  wife,  with  a  baby  in  her  arms,  up 
after  him  rather  unceremoniously.  The  wife  seems  to  suffer 
some  inconvenience  from  a  young  gentleman,  who,  having  lost 
his  good  manners,  and  being  mortally  averse  to  drowning,  has 
got  his  mother  fast  hold  by  the  hair,  by  w^hicli  he  almost  pulls 
her  head  off  her  shoulders."  The  whole  fjimily  certainly  are 
not  very  comfortably  situated,  except  the  tw^o  extremes  of  life, 
the  old  gentleman  and  the  baby,  who,  being  simply  passengers, 
care  very  little  about  it. 

This  is  indeed  horrible  ;  but  it  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
labored  and  over-charged  compositions  of  the  art  of  that  pe- 
riod. But  what  a  striking  contrast  does  it  present  to  the 
grandeur  and  repose  that  characterize  the  work  of  Poussin, 
and  likewise  the  grand  and  dignified  simplicity  of  the  old 
masters  !  This  painting  received  the  ten-thousand-franc  pre- 
mium, in  competition  Avith  several  others,  at  one  of  the  exhi-- 


ENGLISH   AND    FRENCH    AUT.  I6l 

bitions  under  the  Empire,  and  it  proves  conclusively  that  the 
view  herein  given  of  the  art  of  that  period  is  no  exaggeration. 

We  know  that  even  when  this  exaggerated  style  was  most 
popular,  there  were,  as  already  stated,  individual  exceptions 
to  these  remarks  in  the  works  of  De  la  Roche,  Scheffer,  and  a 
few  others.  Scheffer,  however,  it  should  be  stated,  was  not 
a  Frenchman,  but  a  German.  We  know  he  is  claimed  for 
France  because  he  painted  there  ;  but  upon  that  principle  France 
must  give  up  Poussin  and  Claude ;  and  Sweden,  Thorwaldsen  ; 
and  America,  IPowers  and  Greenough  and  Crawford  and  Xewton. 

De  la  Roche,  certainly,  in  his  painting  of  "  Cromwell  looking 
into  the  Coffin  of  Charles  I.,"  and  more  especially  in  that  better 
composition,  "  The  Marquis  of  Strafford  led  out  to  Execution," 
crave  evidence  of  having  broken  from  the  school  of  David  as 
effectually  as  did  Cimabue  and  Giotto  and  ;Masaccio  from  the 
Gothic  barbarities  of  those  who  preceded  them. 

France  had  a  great  deal  to  be  proud  of  in  her  earlier  painters. 
The  classic  Poussin,  the  chaste  Le  Suem-  (the  French  Raphael), 
the  pathetic  Greuze,  the  playful  Watteau,  and  the  "Storm 
King,"  Joseph  Vernet,  were  a  constellation  of  genius  never 
surpassed  m  England  ;  and,  happily  for  art,  their  mfluence 
has  been  again  revived,  and  their  example  imitated  by  such 
artists  as  Couture,  Fleury,  De  la  Croix,  Troyon,  :\Iillet,  Dias, 
and  Rosa  Bonheur,  —  all  of  them  now  more  or  less-  eminent  in 
one  or  another  department  of  the  art.  And  yet  the  old  school 
of  David  is  not  without  some  admirers.  Go  into  the  Louvre 
even  now,  and  you  will  find  artists  copying  Vouet,  Girodet, 
Girard,  to  the  neglect  of  the  better  productions  of  the  old 
Italian  school. 

There  was  a  time  when  this  country  was  deluged  with 
engravings  from  productions  of  this  school.  They  stared  at 
us  from  the  windows  of  the  print-shops,  they  leaped  upon  us 
from  our  portfolios,  they  screamed  to  us  from  our  centre-tables, 
and  they  were  the  admired  models  of  the  young  ladies  and 
young  gentlemen  at  our  dravring-schools  ;  and  it  is  hardly  bet- 
ter now.  T'he  professional  artist  knows  the  error  of  this,  and 
he  seeks  a  model  and  a  guide  in  the  ancient  sculptures  ;  but  it 
11 


162  ENGLISH  AND   FRENCH  ART. 

is  different  in  many  drawing-schools,  and  for  the  reason  that 
the  attempt  would  find  little  or  no  encouragement,  —  therefore 
you  rarely  see  laid  before  the  scholar  for  study  and  imitation 
anything  from  the  works  of  the  old  sculptors  and  painters ;  as 
for  the  principles  of  taste,  there  are  many  teachers  among  us 
who  are  yet  to  learn  that  any  have  been  discovered,  and  that, 
guided  by  those  principles,  the  old  masters  were  enabled  to  do 
that  by  which  the  world  has  been  made  wiser  and  better. 

"We  commence  wrong,  and  hence  the  false  estimation  of  art 
among  us. 

It  is  the  same  with  a  love  for  painting  or  sculpture  or  archi- 
tecture- that  it  is  w^ith  a  love  for  poetry ;  and  as  he  w^ho  begins 
his  poetic  reading  with  "the  delightful  pages  of  Thomson, 
which  reflect  the  images  of  that  nature  their  author  so  warmly 
loved;  of  Cowper,  who  heard  everywhere  the  loud  hosannas 
sent  from  all  God's  works ;  of  Milton,  who  soared  beyond  the 
bounds  of  space  and  time  with  the  express  design  of  justifying 
the  ways  of  God  to  man,"  —  as  he  who  thus  begins  his  poetic 
reading  will  have  acquired  a  taste  which  will  not  easily  descend 
to  vitiate  itself  with  whatever  is  mean  in  composition  and  pol- 
luting in  tendency;  so  he  who  begins  his  acquaintance  with 
art  with  the  time-hallowed  and  choicest  productions  of  its 
most  venerated  professors  cannot  fail  "  to  lay  also  the  founda- 
tion of  that  purity  of  taste  which  leads  directly  to  purity  of 
manners,  by  freeing  the  mind  from  appetite,  and  conducting 
the  thoughts  through  successive  stages  of  excellence  till  that 
contemplation  of  universal  rectitude,  begun  by  taste,  shall,  as  it 
is  exalted  and  refined,  conclude  in  virtue." 


ESSAY    XI. 
SCULPTURE. 

THERE  are  none  of  the  fine  arts  which  the  Greeks  made  so 
exclusively  their  own,  or  brought  to  such  perfection,  as 
sculpture. 

In  painting  they  may  or  may  not  have  been  in  some  respects 
inferior  to  the  Italians,  as  our  means  of  forming  a  decisive 
opinion  on  this  point  are  insufficient;  but  in  sculpture  they 
still  retain  a  pre-eminence  which  no  nation  can  pretend  to  dis- 
pute, and  which,  in  its  peculiar  line,  probably  can  never  be 
surpassed.  Other  nations  may,  at  some  period  or  other,  have 
a  class  of  sculpture  equal  to  and  even  surpassing  that  of  the 
Greeks,  but  it  can  hardly  be  in  that  class  of  sculpture  which 
the  Greeks  practised  and  brought  to  such  perfection  during  the 
hundred  and  sixty  years  that  elapsed  from  the  time  of  Pericles 
to  the  death  of  Alexander  the  Great,  three  hundred  and  thirty 
years  before  Christ. 

The  history  of  early  Grecian  sculpture  is  so  involved  in 
obscurity  that  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  spend  our  time  in 
trying  to  learn  its  condition,  or  in  seeking  to  know  who  most 
excelled  in  it.  We  read  of  one  Daedalus  as  surpassing  all  who 
preceded  him;  but  even  he,  if  such  a  one  ever  existed,  could 
have  been  great  only  in  comparison  with  his  less  excellent  con- 
temporaries, for  it  was  not  until  several  centuries  subsequent 
to  him  that  sculpture  succeeded  in  obtaining  even  a  tolerable 
likeness  of  the  human  form. 

The  chief  reported  occurrences  in  the  history  of  early  Greece 
were  the  Argonautic  Expedition,  the  war  of  Thebes,  and  the 
taking  of  Troy.  How  much  of  this  was  poetic  fiction,  and  how 
much  was  fact,  it  is  not  possible  to  tell ;  nor  do  we  get  into  the 


164  SCULPTURE. 

region  of  certainty  until  at  a  much  later  period,  when  the  bat- 
tles of  Marathon  and  Salamis  struck  the  first  decided  blow  at 
Persian  power,  and  gave  a  beginning  to  the  Grecian,  or  third 
great  monarchy  of  the  world. 

An  event  of  so  much  importance,  by  changing  fortune  and 
transferring  power  in  so  large  a  portion  of  the  civilized  part  of 
mankind,  raised  the  character  of  the  Greeks ;  and  their  heroic 
ardor,  increased  by  success,  soon  sought  additional  distinction 
by  every  great  and  praiseworthy  exertion  of  body  and  mind  in 
arts  and  in  amis. 

"The  accumulated  wisdom  of  ages  and  the  discoveries  in 
science  were  taught  by  their  philosophers  ;  their  temples  and 
pubhc  buildings  were  raised  with  a  magnificence  unknown 
before,  and  decorated  with  all  the  powers  of  art.  ^schylus, 
Euripides,  and  Sophocles  ennobled  the  minds  of  the  people  by 
their  dramatic  poetry ;  the  exercises  which  formed  the  body  to 
exertion  and  beauty  and  the  mind  to  fortitude  and  patriotism 
were  universally  2}racti8ed,  cultivated,  and  honored.  In  this 
general  spirit  of  enterprise  and  improvement,  sculpture  appeared 
in  the  school  of  Phidias  with  a  beauty  and  j^erfection  which 
surpassed  all  former  efforts."  When  we  read,  also,  that  con- 
temporary with  the  dramatic  poets  were  the  philosophers 
Socrates,  Plato,  and  Anaxagoras,  and  the  statesmen  and  war- 
riors Pericles,  Miltiades,  Themistocles,  Cimon,  and  Xenophon, 
it  must  be  confessed  that  no  j^eriod  in  the  world's  history  could 
have  been  more  favorable  in  its  moral  and  political  circum- 
stances, and  in  the  emulation  of  rare  talent,  to  produce  the 
display  and  encourage  the  growth  of  genius. 

The  city  and  the  citadel  of  Athens  had  been  burned  by  the 
army  of  Xerxes.  This,  in  one  aspect  of  the  matter,  was  a 
fortunate  circumstance ;  for  the  Greeks,  nevertheless,  being 
conquerors,  it  eventuated  in  the  raising  of  more  stately  edifices 
in  the  place  of  those  destroyed,  and  the  employment  of  Phidias 
to  su]3erintend  and  decorate  the  temple  of  Minerva  and  other 
public  works  on  the  Acropolis  of  Athens. 

"  A  few  years  before  the  birth  of  Phidias,  Hipparchus  had 
formed  a  public  library  for  the  Athenians,  in  which  were  placed 


SCULPTURE.  165 

the  works  of  Homer,  which  lie  had  collected  and  aiTanged.  As 
they  were  more  complete  they  became  more  popular.  Socrates 
employed  their  language  in  moral  discourses,  and  Plato  in 
images  and  reasonings  to  embody  and  convey  the  theologies  of 
Orjjheus  and  Pythagoras.  Their  poets  formed  tragedies  from 
the  Iliad  and  the  Thebais.  Homer  supplied  subjects  for  the 
painter  and  the  sculptor,  and  his  descrix>tions  fixed  the.  j^ersons 
and  aftrihites  of  the  gods.'" 

Phidias  was  the  first  sculptor  to  avail  himself  of  the  advan- 
tages of  the  times.  He  entered  heart  and  hand  into  the  ref- 
ormation ;  and  his  improvements  soon  reached  the  climax  of 
perfection  in  that  wonder  of  art,  the  Jupiter  of  Elis,  and  that 
hardly  less  remarkable  production,  the  Minerva  Athene,  the 
protectress  and  patroness  of  the  capital  of  Greece. 

The  emulators  of  Phidias  were  Alcamenes,  Critias,  and 
Nestocles,  and,  twenty  years  afterwards,  Agelades,  Gallon,  Poly- 
cletus,  Phradmon,  Gorgias,  Lacon,  Myron,  Scopas,  and  Parelius, 
some  of  whom,  doubtless,  were  fellow-workers  with  Phidias  in 
the  adornment  of  the  temples  of  Minerva  and  Theseus.  The 
chief  builders  were  Ictinus  and  Callicrates,  but  the  presiding 
and  controlling  power  of  the  whole  was  Phidias.  His  superior 
genius  as  a  sculptor,  in  addition  to  his  knowledge  of  painting, 
"  gave  a  grandeur  to  his  compositions,  a  grace  to  his  groups, 
and  softness  to  flesh,  and  a  flow  to  drapery,  unknown  to  his 
predecessors,  the  character  of  whose  figures  was  stiff"  rather 
than  digniified,  their  forms  meagre  and  turgid,  the  folds  of  the 
drapery  parallel  and  poor,  resembling  geometrical  lines,  rather 
than  simple  but  ever-varying  forms  of  nature,  Minerva,  who 
before  had  been  rendered  elderly  and  harsh,  was  by  him  rendered 
young  and  beautiful,  yet  severe  ;  and  Jupiter,  who  by  previous 
sculptors  had  been  rendered  simply  venerable,  was  by  him  ren- 
dered sublime  and  awful  as  when,  according  to  Homer,  his  nod 
shook  the  poles,  yet  benignant  and  mild  as  when  first  he  smiled 
on  his  beloved  daughter  Venus."  That  is,  Phidias  did  rightly 
what  his  predecessors  had  done  wi'ongly.  The  historic  record 
is  brief,  but  it  embodies  a  great  idea,  and  all  that  is  necessary 
to  illustrate  the  difference  between  true  and  false  art. 


166  SCULPTUEE. 

Phidias  not  only  determined  the  forms  of  these  divinities, 
from  which  no  sculptor  or  painter  afterwards  presumed  to 
deviate,  but  the  countenance,  figures,  and  attributes  of  all  the 
other  divinities  of  Homer  were  settled  by  him  and  his  suc- 
cessors, whose  laws  became  immutable,  and  were  willingly  sub- 
mitted to  both  by  artists  and  people. 

It  is  to  be  noted  in  this  connection  that  the  character  of  the 
father  of  the  gods  being  determined  settled  the  scale  of  grada- 
tion for  his  progeny,  those  near  him  being  rendered  more  sub- 
lime, those  more  removed  less  perfect,  and,  further,  that  a 
strong  family  resemblance  is  preserved  between  Jupiter  and 
his  progeny.  This  is  particularly  observable  in  the  Apollo, 
Bacchus,  and  Mercury.  It  is  also  to  be  remarked,  that  in  the 
Greek  system  corporeal  excellence  attends  upon  divinity,  and  as 
the  character  recedes  from  this  the  form  partakes  more  of  the 
animal.  Satyrs,  the  lowest  order  in  the  train  of  Bacchus,  bear 
strong  resemblances  to  different  quadrupeds ;  the  figure  and 
face  partake  of  the  ape,  the  ram,  and  the  goat. 

There  are,  doubtless,  other  features  in  the  Greek  system  that 
it  would  be  interesting  to  notice,  but  the  above  will  suffice  to 
show  the  solid  basis  upon  which  it  was  founded ;  in  everything 
which  the  Greeks  attempted  in  art  they  acted  in  accordance 
with  natural  and  general  laws,  and  therein  lies  the  secret  of  the 
universal  and  enduring  admiration  that  has  been  bestowed  upon 
all  their  productions.  How  they  were  enabled  so  successfully 
to  apply  those  laws  and  reach  the  perfection  they  attained  in 
sculpture  is  a  question  the  solution  of  which  is  to  be  sought 
for  and  found  "in  the  forms  of  their  mythology,  consisting  of 
gods  bearing  the  forms  of  men  and  women,  without  any  other 
attributes  than  those  possessed  by  human  beings,  yet  greater 
and  more  beautiful  than  mortals." 

"  Other  idolatrous  nations  have  distinguished  their  gods  from 
men  by  a  thousand  vulgar  expedients,  —  the  Egjq^tians,  by  a 
strange  symbolism  ;  the  Hindoos,  by  adding  heads,  limbs,  and 
arms  without  number ;  and  others  by  the  size  and  precious 
materials  of  which  their  images  were  made.  But  the  pride 
or  vanity  of  the  Greeks  would  not  allow  their  gods  any  attri- 


SCULPTURE.  1G7 

bates  tliey  did  not  themselves  possess ;  and  consequently  they 
ever  remained  distinguished  from  mortals  but  b}'  their  great- 
ness, their  beauty,  and  their  immortality.  When,  therefore,  it 
fell  to  the  sculptor  to  portray  them,  he  had  only  to  concentrate 
every  human  perfection  and  every  human  beauty  until  the 
image  was  too  perfect  for  a  mortal  and  became  a  god." 

Completeness,  however,  in  their  representations  was  not 
reached  at  once ;  but  artist  after  artist  advanced  step  by 
step  towards  the  great  ideal,  and  added  beauty  to  beauty 
until  the  images  became  what  we  see  them. 

The  rapid  career  of  Phidias  might  seem  to  contradict  this 
progressive  theory ;  but  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  at  the 
time  of  his  appearance  sculpture  was  not  a  new  art  any  more 
than  was  painting  in  Italy  on  the  appearance  of  Da  Yinci, 
Michael  Angelo,  Raphael,  Titian,  and  Correggio,  nor  was  the 
perfection  reached  in  Greek  sculpture  greater  or  more  imme- 
diate than  that  exhibited  in  Italian  art.  There  doubtless  had 
been  many  prior  fruitless  attempts  by  the  Greeks  to  portray 
the  father  of  the  gods,  as  there  had  been  by  the  Italians  to  por- 
tray the  Madonna  and  the  prophets ;  but  no  one  previous  to 
the  coming  of  Phidias,  Da  Yinci,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Raphael, 
had  been  found  fully  to  grasp  the  great  conception.  Nor  would 
they  have  succeded  but  for  the  vain  attempts  made  by  those 
great  though  inferior  artists  who  preceded  them.  Phidias,  Da 
Yinci,  Michael  Angelo,  and  Raphael  were  the  product  of  all  pre- 
vious efforts,  as  they  were  in  greater  or  less  degree  the  authors 
of  all  subsequent  success.  And  there  is  nothing  peculiar  in 
this  ;  it  has  characterized  the  advance  of  every  art  and  every 
science  since  the  creation  of  man. 

"  The  first  object  of  the  Grecian  sculj^tors  was  to  represent 
perfectly  the  human  form.  This  they  attained  with  a  degree  of 
perfection  that  even  now  astonishes  us  ;  nothing  more  perfect 
than  the  anatomical  development  of  the  figures  of  the  Par- 
thenon can  well  be  conceived  of,  for  not  only  every  joint  and 
every  muscle  is  perfectly  imitated,  but  their  motions  and  actions 
are  indicated  so  distinctly  that  we  can  almost  predicate  what  the 
next  position  would  be,  were  it  suddenly  endued  with  life." 


168  SCULPTURE. 

"  This,  however,  was  not  with  the  Greeks  the  end  of  art,  but 
subordinate  to  a  second  and  more  important  one,  namely,  to 
rejliie  the  human  form  into  that  of  a  god,"  not  by  copying  ex- 
actly any  single  individual,  however  perfect,  as  the  product 
would  have  been  a  mere  mortal,  but  by  gathering  into  one 
congenial  mass  scattered  beauties  of  the  human  race,  and  thus 
producing  forms  superior  to  any  one  original,  and  constituting, 
as  already  stated,  according  to  their  ideas,  something  divine.  It 
is  true  that  according  to  our  ideas  they  failed.  But  we  must 
judge  them  by  their  own  light ;  and  even  if  we  deny  the  divin- 
ity of  their  figures,  we  must  admit  that  in  the  attempt  they  pro- 
duced the  noblest  corporeal  representations  of  mortals  the  world 
has  yet  seen ;  for  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  the  Venus  de  Medici 
still  stand  without  a  rival  in  modern  art.  Their  greatest  and 
perhaps  only  want  is  the  highest  class  of  expression. 

But  the  Greeks  possessed  another  class  of  beings,  scarcely  less 
beautiful  than  the  gods  themselves,  whose  acts  and  figures  it  was 
the  peculiar  province  of  the  sculptor  to  embody,  —  "all  those 
God-like,  God-descended  heroes  over  whom  their  earliest  bards 
had  spread  their  veil  of  poetry,  and  thus  separated  them  from 
the  ordinary  race  of  men." 

And  still  another  class,  which  claimed  to  a  great  extent  the 
attention  of  the  Greek  sculptors,  and  which  deserves  a  brief  no- 
tice in  this  connection,  were  the  gorgons,  the  hydras,  the  harpies, 
the  minotaurs,  and  centaurs,  perfect  absurdities  in  themselves, 
and  blots  on  pure  art;  "but  the  elegance  with  which  they  are 
executed,  the  idea  they  express,  and  the  animation  and  power 
with  which  the  sculptor  has  endowed  them,  has  sufficed  to 
redeem  what  otherwise  would  be  revolting." 

It  is  not  our  intention,  however,  to  give  an  entire  catalogue 
of  Greek  conceptions,  nor  would  our  limits  permit  us,  even  if 
we  were  so  inclined ;  for  "  the  whole  universe  was  filled  by  that 
imaginative  people  with  congenial  beings  described  by  poets, 
substantiated  by  philosophers,  and  represented  with  the  glow 
of  life  by  sculptors  and  painters." 

It  is  well  known  to  the  student  of  art  history  that  many  of 
the  very  best  productions  have  perished,  and  all  we  know  of 


SCULPTURE.  169 

tlicm  is  derived  from  coins;  and  that  most  of  those  which 
now  excite  our  admiration  and  wonder  are  at  best  but  copies, 
much  mutihited  when  discovered,  and  but  imperfectly  restored 
by  the  moderns. 

It  is  true  we  have  descriptions  by  ancient  liistorians  of  the 
lost  statues ;  but  no  written  description  can  convey  an  adequate 
idea  of  a  work  of  art  like  that  of  the  Jupiter  Olymj^us  or  Mi- 
nerva Athene,  especially  where  the  impression  made  upon  the 
spectator  arises  in  a  great  degree  from  magnitude  and  color,  as 
was  the  case,  doubtless,  with  the  above-named  statues.  Still, 
many  have  to  rely  upon  the  historian  and  the  draughtsman  for 
much  of  their  knowledge  of  the  great  works  of  art,  at  least  until 
they  can  see  the  works  themselves;  and  therefore,  necessarily 
availing  ourselves  of  this  mode  of  instruction,  we  will  now 
briefly  pass  in  review  such  of  the  great  works  of  the  Greek 
sculptors  as  have  been  seen  and  described  by  the  contemporary 
historian,  or  have  been  providentially  preserved  in  greater  or 
less  perfection  to  the  present  period ;  and  we  will  commence 
our  remarks  with  a  description  by  Pausanias  of  what  is  gener- 
ally considered  the  greatest  production  in  this  department  of 
the  art. 

THE  JUPITER  OLYMPUS. 

The  height  of  this  statue  was  sixty  feet.  It  was  not  of 
marble  or  bronze,  but  of  ivory,  enriched  with  golden  ornaments 
and  precious  stones.  The  father  of  the  gods  is  represented 
seated  on  his  throne,  his  left  hand  holding  a  sceptre,  his  right 
hand  a  Victory  of  ivory  and  gold,  with  a  crown  and  fillet, 
his  head  crowned  with  olive,  and  his  pallium  or  mantle  deco- 
rated with  birds,  beasts,  and  flowers.  At  the  four  corners  of 
the  throne  were  dancing  Victorys,  each  supported  by  a  sphinx 
tearing  a  Theban  youth.  At  the  back  of  the  throne,  above  his 
head,  were  on  one  side  the  three  hours  or  seasons,  and  on  the 
other  the  three  graces. 

On  the  bar  between  the  legs  of  the  throne  and  the  panels 
and  spaces  between  the  panels  were  represented  many  stories, 
—  "The   Destruction  of  Niobe's  Children,"  "The   Labors  of 


170  SCULPTUKE. 

Hercules,"  "  The  Delivery  of  Prometheus,"  "  The  Garden  of  the 
Hesperides,"  with  different  adventures  of  the  heroic  ages.  On 
the  base  was  the  battle  of  Theseus  with  the  Amazons ;  on  the 
pedestal  an  assembly  of  the  gods,  the  sun  and  moon  in  their 
cars,  and  the  birth  of  Venus. 

This  great  work  of  Phidias,  which  raised  his  fame  above  that 
of  all  the  sculptors  of  antiquity,  has  numerous  imitations  still 
existing  in  marble  and  bronze,  and  on  coins  of  Alexander  the 
Great  and  his  successors;  also  on  Domitian's  medals  in  large 
brass. 

MINERVA  ATHENE. 

Within  the  Parthenon  stood  the  far-famed  statue  of  Minerva, 
also  by  Phidias.  It  was,  like  the  Jupiter,  of  ivory  and  gold,  and 
thirty-nine  feet  in  height.  In  her  right  hand  Avas  a  Victory  six 
feet  high ;  the  left  hand  rested  on  a  shield.  The  goddess  was 
clothed  in  a  tunic  reaching  to  her  feet :  her  helmet  was  adorned 
with  horses  and  griffins ;  on  the  round  side  of  the  shield  was 
the  fight  with  the  Amazons ;  on  the  concave  side,  the  battle  of 
the  gods  and  giants ;  on  her  sandals,  the  contest  of  the  lapithse 
and  centaurs ;  on  the  base  was  the  birth  of  Pandora  in  the  pres- 
ence of  thirty  divinities.  Memorials  of  this  statue  are  preserved 
on  Athenian  coins,  of  which  there  are  engravings  in  the  vignettes 
of  Stuart's  "  Athens." 

These  two  statues,  —  the  Juj^iter  Olympus  and  the  ]\Iinerva 
Athene,  —  although  generally  considered  the  greatest  works  of 
the  best  age  of  the  arts,  were  not  the  most  beautiful,  for  su- 
periority in  that  respect  attaches  to  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and 
Venus  de  Medici.  The  drapery  forbade  it  in  the  Minerva  ; 
the  apparent  age  of  the  father  of  the  gods  rendered  it  impos- 
sible in  the  Jupiter.  In  the  latter  the  Homeric  divinity  was  per- 
sonified with  a  beauty  of  majesty  beyond  which  human  intel- 
lect did  not  extend  ;  the  former,  the  type  of  Divine  wisdom 
both  to  the  philosopher  and  the  common  votarj^,  manifested 
the  attractions  of  3'outh  united  to  the  expression  of  severe 
virtue. 

Several  other  statues  of  gi-eat  excellence  are  mentioned  among 


SCULPTURE.  171 

the  works  of  Phidias,  particular!}'  a  Venus  phiced  in  the  forum 
of  Octavia;  two  Minervas,  one  named  Callimorphas  from  the 
beauty  of  her  form.  Another  statue  by  him  was  an  Amazon 
called  Euknemin  from  her  beautiful  leg. 

BELLEROPHOX   ABOUT  TO   MOUNT   PEGASUS. 

This  group,  which  stands  opposite  the  Papal  palace,  on  Monte 
Cavallo  at  Rome,  is  thought  to  be  the  work  also  of  Phidias,  from 
its  resemblance  in  the  attitude  of  the  hero,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
horse,  to  a  bas-relief  on  the  Parthenon.  The  name  of  Phidias  is 
inscribed  on  the  pedestal. 

THE  SCULPTURES   OF   THE   PARTHENON. 

The  two  pediments  of  the  temple  of  Minerva  were  each  eighty 
feet  long,  filled  with  compositions  of  entire  groups  and  statues 
fi'om  eight  to  nine  feet  high.  The  subject  of  the  western  pedi- 
ment related  to  the  birth  of  Minerva,  or,  rather,  her  introduction 
to  the  gods.  The  eastern  pediment  had  the  contention  of  Nep- 
tune and  Minerva  for  the  patronage  of  Athens. 

Forty-three  metopes  on  the  frieze  had  combats  of  the  lapithse 
and  centaurs,  and  a  frieze  of  three  hundred  and  eighty  feet 
round  the  wall  of  the  temple  under  the  portico  was  decorated 
with  the  procession  of  the  Grecian  States  in  honor  of  Minerva, 
in  chariots  and  on  horseback,  leading  animals  for  sacrifice,  bear- 
ing off'erings,  and  presenting  the  sacred  veil  in  presence  of  gods 
sitting  upon  thrones  to  witness  the  solemn  ceremony. 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  many  of  these  were  the  immedi- 
ate work  of  Phidias  :  but  it  is  certain  that  the  whole  was  done 
under  his  direction,  and  to  him  we  probably  owe  the  composi- 
tion, style,  and  character  of  the  sculj)ture,  in  addition  to  much 
assistance  in  drawing,  modelling,  choice  of  the  nude  and  dra- 
peries, as  well  as  occasional  execution  of  the  parts  in  marble. 
The  so-called  Elgin  marbles  once  made  a  portion  of  the  sculp- 
tures of  the  Parthenon.  They  were  purchased  of  Lord  Elgin, 
at  great  cost,  by  the  British  government,  and  placed  in  the 
British  Museum,  London.     The  Marquis  Nantuel  had  a  drawing 


172  SCULPTURE. 

made  of  the  western  pediment  of  the  Parthenon  when  all  the 
statues  but  one  were  in  their  places,  and  the  whole  was  suffi- 
ciently entire  for  the  composition  to  be  perfectly  understood. 

THE   COLOSSUS   OF  THE   SUN. 

This  statue  is  allowed  by  Phny  the  elder  to  have  excited 
more  astonishment  than  all  the  other  colossal  statues  he  has 
mentioned  on  account  of  its  height,  which  was  one  hundred 
and  five  feet,  —  exceeding  by  forty-five  feet  the  Jupiter  of 
Phidias,  and  by  thirty  feet  any  known  Egyptian  statue.  It 
Avas  the  work  of  Chares,  a  Lindian,  the  disciple  of  Lysippus. 
The  statue  was  thrown  down  by  an  earthquake,  after  standing 
fifty-six  years.  Twelve  years  were  employed  in  the  execution 
of  it,  at  a  cost  of  three  hundred  talents  (about  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars).  It  was  at  the  mouth,  or  entrance,  of  a  har- 
bor in  the  island  of  Rhodes. 

APOLLO  BELVEDERE. 

This  well-known  statue  took  its  name  from  the  so-called  gar- 
den in  Rome  in  which  it  was  first  placed  by  Cardinal  Rovera, 
afterwards  Julius  II.  Shortly  after  it  was  discovered  —  towards 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century  —  the  hands  were  supplied 
by  a  pupil  of  Michael  Angelo.  The  sculptor  intended  to  repre- 
sent in  this  statue  the  God  of  Day  at  the  moment  he  had  rid 
the  earth  of  the  monster  Python,  the  monstrous  serpent  sent, 
as  the  legend  has  it,  to  ravage  the  plains  of  Phocis  after  the 
deluge  of  Deucalion.  The  fatal  arrow  has  flown,  and  the  frame 
of  Apollo  yet  trembles  with  the  high-strained  exertion,  the 
hand  which  held  the  bow  is  yet  at  its  full  extent,  the  fore- 
head is  illuminated  with  the  exultation  of  success.  Hints  are 
not  wantmg  in  ancient  monuments  and  authors  which  lead  us 
to  believe  that  the  archetype  of  this  statue  was  by  Phidias. 
Maximus  Tyrius  describes  a  statue  by  Phidias  very  similar 
to  this,  but  more  in  motion.  Others  believe  it  to  be  the  Apollo 
of  Calamis,  mentioned  both  by  Pliny  and  Pausanias.  Only  one 
small  antique  repetition  of  this  statue  has  been  found. 


SCULPTURE.  173 

VENUS  DE  MEDICI. 

The  sculptor  has  represented  her  on  the  shore  of  the  island 
of  Cytherea  at  the  moment  of  rising  from  the  sea.  The  dolpliin 
and  shell  point  out  her  origin.  The  two  boys,  Eros  and  Ro- 
meros, are  not  of  the  troops  of  Cupids,  of  which  Venus  is  con- 
sidered the  mother,  but  the  deities  of  Love  and  Desire,  who 
presided  over  her  birth,  and  afterwards  attended  her  steps. 
The  style  of  sculpture  seems  to  have  been  later  than  Alexander 
the  Great,  and  the  idea  of  this  statue  appears  to  have  its  origin 
from  the  Venus  of  Cnidus.  It  is  not  known  with  certainty  when 
it  was  discovered  ;  but  it  is  said  to  have  been  found  in  the  forum 
of  Octavia.  So  much  a  fjworite  was  this  statue  with  the  Greeks 
and  Romans,  that  nearly  a  hundred  repetitions  of  it  have  been 
noticed  by  travellers.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  the  work  of 
Cleomenes,  the  Athenian,  the  son  of  Apollodorus,  and  was  for 
some  years  previous  to  1680  in  the  garden  of  the  ]\Iedici,  when 
it  was  transfeiTed  to  Florence.  Plato  distinguishes  the  celestial 
from  the  earthly  Venns,  and  Pliny  mentions  a  statue  by  Phidias 
of  Venus  Urania,  or  the  Heavenly  Venus.  The  Venus  de  Medici 
was  of  the  earthly  class. 

JUXO. 

The  statue  of  the  Queen  of  Heaven  has  a  sublime  beauty 
about  it ;  but  still  it  is  not  remarkable  for  beaut}^,  as  com- 
pared with  the  Venus  de  Medici  and  the  Venus  of  Cnidos,  and 
some  other  of  the  Greek  sculptures.  It  was  in  a  very  imperfect 
condition  when  discovered.  The  head  does  not  belong  to  it, 
and  the  arms,  are  a  modern  restoration.  The  author  of  it  is 
not  authenticated.  It  is  now  in  the  Museum  of  the  Capitol. 
Height,  nine  feet  six  inches. 

CUPID  AND  PSYCHE. 

This  group  is  an  allegoric  representation  of  the  Soul  tor- 
mented by  Love.  It  is  finely  conceived,  but  poorly  executed. 
It  is  a  copy  from  the  work  of  some  great  sculptor.     The  origi- 


174  SCULPTURE. 

nal  probably  was  not  executed  before  the  reign  of  Augustus, 
when  the  Pythagorean  philosophy  was  revived,  from  which  the 
subject  was  taken.     Height,  three  feet  four  inches. 

HERMAPHRODITUS. 

An  attempt  was  made  in  this  figure  to  represent  an  utter 
impossibility,  namely,  the  union  in  one  body  of  the  two  sexes. 
It  is  artfully  managed,  however,  and  as  far  as  the  flow  of  line 
and  the  purity,  delicacy,  and  elegance  of  the  form  are  con- 
cerned, is  one  of  the  best  works  of  antiquity.  As  Pliny  mentions 
a  composition  similar  to  this  by  Polycletiis,  the  j)i'esent  sculp- 
ture was  probably  by  that  master.  In  heathen  mythology  Her- 
maphroditus  is  called  the  offspring  of  Mercury  and  Venus,  and 
the  name  is  a  compound  of  two  Greek  words  :  Hermes,  Mercury, 
and  Aphrodita,  Venus.  Length,  four  feet  eleven  and  a  half 
inches. 

CERES  ELEUSINE. 

The  Attic  Ceres,  the  goddess  of  agi'iculture,  and  the  Egyptian 
Isis  were  the  same  divinities.  This  is  a  very  pleasing  figure. 
The  head  is  said  to  bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  Julia,  the 
daughter  of  Augustus.  If  so,  it  must  have  been  comparatively 
a  late  production,  or  the  head  is  not  that  of  the  original  statue. 
Height,  five  feet  six  inches. 

FLORA. 

This  fine  statue  was  found  in  the  ruins  of  Adrian's  villa,  at 
Tivoli,  in  1741.     Height,  five  feet  six  inches. 

FAUN  REPOSING. 

Pans  and  satyrs,  fauns  and  bacchantes,  were  the  attendants 
of  Bacchus.  The  first  two  had  the  figures  of  beautiful  youths 
with  pointed  ears ;  the  last  two  have  the  lower  limbs  of  the 
goat.  The  more  aged  were  denominated  Silenuses.  The  repos- 
ing faun  was  supposed  to  be  the  famous  one  of  Praxiteles  in  the 
Museum  of  the  Capitol.     Height,  four  feet  four  inches. 


SCULPTURE. 


LAOCOOlSr. 


Laocoon,  a  priest  of  Apollo  and  the  son  of  Antenor,  having 
urged  the  Trojans  to  destroy  the  wooden  horse,  Minerva,  in 
revenge,  caused  two  serpents  to  emerge  from  the  sea  and 
destroy  him  and  his  two  sons  as  they  were  about  to  perform 
a  sacrifice.  Laocoon  is  represented  seated  ujDon  an  altar.  The 
mild,  melancholy,  imploring  looks  of  the  father,  the  anguish  of 
one  of  the  sons  and  the  despair  of  the  other,  are  represented 
with  surpassing  skill.  It  was  once  suj^posed  to  have  been 
WTought  fi'om  a  single  block  ;  but  it  is  a  combination  of  six 
different  pieces.  It  was  the  work  of  Agesander,  Polydorus,  and 
Athenodorus,  of  Rhodes,  in  the  reign  of  Alexander.  Found  in 
the  baths  of  Titus  in  1506.  Purchased  by  Julius  II.  and  placed 
in  the  Vatican.     Height,  six  feet  six  inches. 

THE  DYING   CxLADIATOR. 

The  sculptured  figure  that  has  usually  jmssed  under  that 
name,  in  which  might  be  seen  how  much  of  life  remained, 
and  which  has  been  rendered  doubly  interesting  by  the  noble 
lines  of  Byron,  is,  according  to  Winckelmann,  a  dying  herald 
or  hero ;  if  so,  the  lines  lose  the  largest  portion  of  their 
interest,  for  it  arose  from  the  apparent  truthfulness  of  the 
description ;  and  that  Winckelmann's  judgment  is  well  founded 
is  rendered  probable  from  the  fact  that  the  gladiatorial  show  was 
a  purely  Ptoman  institution,  and  nothing  of  the  kind  would  have 
been  for  a  moment  tolerated  by,  nor  would  an  artist  have  dared 
to  exhibit  such  a  subject  to,  the  refined  and  polished  people 
of  Greece.  If,  however,  it  be  the  representation  of  a  Dying 
Gladiator,  it  must  have  been  executed  after  Greece  was  reduced 
to  a  Pioman  province,  and  consequently  belongs  to  a  very  late 
period  of  the  art,  and  truthfulness  of  delineation  must  be  its 
only  redeeming  quality,  for  such  a  subject  must  to  a  reflective 
and  sensitive  mind  be  very  offensive. 


176  SCULPTURE. 


AEIADjSTE. 

This  reclining  figure  has  sometimes  passed  for  Cleopatra,  but 
it  doubtless  is  a  representation  of  Ariadne  on  the  morning  she 
was  abandoned  by  her  faithless  lover  on  the  island  of  Naxos, 
and  before  she  awoke  "  to  catch  the  last  sad  glance  of  the  sail 
that  bore  away  her  Theseus."  There  is  great  beauty  in  the 
folds  and  adaptation  of  the  drapery  of  this  reclining  statue. 
Length,  six  feet  eleven  inches ;  height,  four  feet  nine  inches. 

LYCIAN   OE    YOUIs^G  APOLLO. 

This  beautiful  statue  took  its  name  from  the  Greek  word 
Liiche,  light.  It  is  in  repose  (not  reclining),  —  a  position 
generally  chosen  by  the  old  Greek  sculptors,  who  usually 
avoided  all  violent  action  for  fear  of  giving  too  much  prom- 
inence to  the  muscles  by  contraction.  The  Greek  sculptors 
posterior  to  Alexander  copied  the  earlier  attitudes  and  charac- 
ters, thinking  if  they  could  render  the  forms  more  noble  and 
pure,  they  should  excel  their  predecessors.     Height,  seven  feet. 

DISCOBULUS   m   REPOSE. 

Throwing  the  quoit  was  one  of  the  five  gymnastic  exercises 
of  the  Olympian  games.  This  is  a  copy  of  the  statue  of  the 
name  executed  by  Naucydes,  and  is  universally  admired  for  its 
form  and  momentary  balance.  It  is  in  the  Museum  of  Paris, 
France.     Height,  five  feet  seven  inches. 

DISCOBULUS   m   ACTION. 

This  figure  is  finely  rendered  in  every  part,  but  its  attitude  is 
forced,  and  consequently  mmatvu'al,  —  a  condition  not  often  met 
with  in  the  older  works  of  Greece.  It  is  ascertained  from  an 
antique  gem  to  have  been  the  production  of  Myron,  and  this  is 
still  further  confirmed  by  the  description  of  Quintilian.  It 
is  now  in  the  Museum  of  the  Vatican.  An  ancient  copy  of 
this  figure  is  in  the  British  Museum.  Height,  five  feet  ten 
inches. 


SCULPTURE.  177 

VENUS   OF   CNIDUS  AND   VENUS   OF   COS. 

The  former  of  these  statues  was  m  existence  in  Cnidus  durini^ 
the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Arcadius,  about  four  hundred  years 
after  Christ.  It  is  now  known  only  from  description,  and  from 
a  representation  on  a  medal  of  Caracalla  and  Plautilla  in  the 
imperial  cabinet  of  France.  The  two  were  by  Praxiteles,  who 
excelled  in  the  highest  graces  of  youth  and  beauty,  and  whose 
fame  is  as  great  now  as  it  was  when  it  was  the  ftishion  to 
encounter  the  perils  of  the  ocean  to  see  the  famous  statue  of 
Venus  in  the  island  of  Cnidus.  The  historian  relates  that  the 
sculptor  having  made  tw^o  statues  of  Venus,  one  without,  the 
other  with  drapery,  the  Coans  preferred  the  clothed  figure  on 
account  of  its  severe  modesty,  the  same  price  being  set  upon 
each.  The  citizens  of  Cnidus  took  the  rejected  figure,  and 
afterwards  refused  it  to  King  Nicomedes,  who  would  have  for- 
given them  an  immense  debt  in  return  ;  but  they  were  resolved 
to  suffer  anything  rather  than  part  w^ith  this  statue.  The 
temple  in  which  it  was  placed  was  entirely  open,  because  ever}-^ 
view  was  equally  admirable.  It  is  this  statue  which  is  said  to 
have  been  the  prototype,  or,  rather,  to  have  suggested  the  first 
idea  of  the  Venus  de  Medici ;  or  it  may  be  the  repetition  of 
another  Venus,  also  the  work  of  this  artist,  mentioned  by 
Pliny.  On  the  reverse  of  the  Empress  Lucilla's  medals  is  a 
clothed  Venus,  w^ith  an  apple  in  her  right  hand,  which,  from  the 
grace  of  the  attitude,  and  its  resemblance  to  several  antique 
marble  statues,  is  likely  to  be  the  clothed  Venus  chosen  by  the 
Coans. 


DORYPHORUS  ;    OR,    THE   LANCE-BEARER. 

This  statue  was  called  the  rule  by  artists,  and  from  it  they 
studied  the  forms,  outline,  and  lineaments  of  the  human  figure. 
It  was  by  Polycletus  of  Sicyon,  the  scholar  of  Agelades,  who 
was  also  celebrated  for  his  Diadumenus,  or  youth  binding  a 
fillet  round  his  head^  which  was  valued  at  one  hundred  talents, 
or  one  hundred  thousand  dollars. 
12 


178  SCULPTURE. 

HERCULES  AND   TELAPHUS. 

This  statue  probably  was  intended  to  be  a  representation  of 
Hercules  and  Ajax,  the  infant  son  of  Telamon,  inasmuch  as 
Hercules  is  reported  to  have  been  present  at  the  birth  of  Ajax, 
and  to  have  raised  him  in  his  arms  towards  the  skies  and  com- 
mended him  to  Jupiter,  and,  to  render  him  invulnerable,  wrapped 
him  in  the  skin  of  the  Numean  lion.  The  head  of  Hercules  is 
very  fine,  but  the  child  is  a  modern  interpolation. 

HEAD   OF  JUPITER. 

The  mask  of  this  fragment  alone  is  antique,  and  was  dis- 
covered towards  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century.  It  is 
in  the  Museum  of  the  Vatican.  Height,  one  foot  one  and  a 
half  inches. 

VENUS   OF  THE  CAPITOL. 

This  statue,  like  that  of  the  Venus  de  Medici,  was  imitated 
from,  or  rather  the  idea  of  it  was  suggested  by,  the  Venus  of 
Cnidus.  It  is  by  some  confidently  pronounced  to  be  a  copy 
from  one  of  the  three  Venuses  enumerated  by  Pliny  among  the 
works  of  Praxiteles.  Although  it  is  more  dignified,  it  is  a  less 
insinuating  beauty  than  the  Venus  de  Medici.  It  is  in  the 
Museum  of  the  Capitol,  Rome. 

VENUS   APHRODITA. 

This  statue  was  very  celebrated.  It  was  by  Alcamenes,  but 
the  last  touches  were  given  to  it  by  Phidias. 

NIOBE. 

The  gi'oup  of  Niobe  and  her  children,  by  Scopas,  is  an  example 
of  heroic  beauty  in  maturer  age.  The  sentiment  intended  to  be 
portraj^ed  is  maternal  affection.  Niobe  exposes  her  own  life  to 
shield  her  children  from  threatened  destruction  by  the  thunder 
bolts  of  Jupiter.     The  statues  of  the  children  all  partake  of 


scuLriuRE.  179 

the   same  heroic  beaut}',  mixed  with  the   passions   of  appre- 
hension, dismay,  or  death. 


SACRIFICATOR. 

The  drapery  of  this  figure  is  wonderfully  fine,  but  the  head 
does  not  belong  to  the  statue. 


RICHELIEU  BACCHUS. 

Apollo  and  Bacchus  were  the  two  statues  in  which  both  poets 
and  sculptors  sought  to  unite  all  the  beauties  of  the  human 
form.  The  latter  combined  the  utmost  earthly  perfection  and 
symmetry;  the  Apollo,  in  addition,  something  of  the  divine. 
The  Bacchus  has  more  softness ;  the  Apollo,  more  energy.  Rich 
curls,  falling  in  profusion  about  the  neck  and  shoulders,  charac- 
terize the  head  of  this  son  of  Jove.  The  statue  w^as  in  a  greatly 
impaired  condition  when  discovered. 

The  hands,  the  lower  part  of  the  arms,  the  right  leg,  and 
a  portion  of  the  left  foot,  are  restorations.  It  is  now  in  the  Gal- 
lery of  the  Louvi'C.     Height,  six  feet  four  inches. 

THE   HUNTING  DIANA. 

This  figure  of  Diana  is  more  active  and  light  than  either  that 
of  Juno,  or  Minerva,  or  any  other  of  the  goddesses.  Its  chief 
characteristic  is  elasticity,  and  its  form  appears  most  approin'i- 
ately  and  admirably  adapted,  like  that  of  Mercury,  the  mes- 
senger of  the  gods,  for  quickness  of  movement.  It  has  been  in 
France  since  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.,  and  for  a  long  time  in  the 
Galleiy  of  Versailles.     Height,  six  feet  six  and  a  half  inches. 

CUPID   BENDING   HIS   BOW. 

This  is  a  copy  of  a  statue  by  Praxiteles.  The  original  was 
presented  by  the  courtesan  Phryne  to  her  native  city,  Thes- 
pia.     Height,  four  feet  one  inch. 


180  SCULPTURE, 

THE  MUSES. 

The  nine  muses,  by  Philiscus  of  Rhodes,  —  Calliope,  Clio, 
Erato,  Euterpe,  Melpomene,  Polyhymnia,  Terpsichore,  Thalia, 
and  Urania,  —  daughters  of  Jupiter  and  Mnemosyne,  are  men- 
tioned by  Pliny,  as  are  also  the  muses  brought  by  Fulvius  No- 
bilior  to  Rome.  It  is  not  known  to  -^hich  of  these  series  those 
in  the  pope's  Museum  belong.  There  may  have  been  a  portion 
from  each  series.  Of  these,  Melpomene  is  remarkable  for  gran- 
deur, Thalia  for  the  beauty  of  early  youth  and  modesty,  Euterpe 
for  regal  grace,  and  Calliope  and  C'lio  for  Doric  simplicity  and 
mental  occupation  in  bodily  rest. 

THE  BARBERINI   FAUN. 

This  statue  is  remarkable  for  the  elastic  foi-m  of  muscle 
and  tendon  proper  to  the  mountainous  and  sylvan  habits  of 
the  race. 

DIANA  DISCHAEGING  AN  ARROW. 

This  beautiful  and  interesting  statue  has  long  been  the  prop- 
erty of  the  French  government.  It  has  been  considered  by 
some  learned  judges  to  resemble  the  Apollo  Belvedere  in  coun- 
tenance and  general  character  to  a  degree  that  may  warrant  an 
opinion  that  they  are  both  the  production  of  one  sculptor. 

MENANDER  AND   POSIDIPPUS. 

These  two  statues  are  the  portraits  of  the  comic  poets  of 
those  names.     They  were  originally  in  the  theatre  of  Athens. 

HERCULES   FARNESE. 

This  well-known  statue  was  evidently  one  of  the  first  favorites 
of  antiquity,  from  its  frequent  repetitions  on  bronze  and  marble, 
on  gems  and  on  coins.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  some  statues 
of  Hercules,  in  the  same  attitude  of  repose  with  that  surnamed 


SCULPTUEE.  181 

Faniese,  but  of  much  earlier  date,  have  tlie  proportions  of  com- 
luon  men,  and  that  a  series  of  them  may  be  found  in  the  va- 
rious collections,  gradually  increasing  to  the  ten'ific  strength  of 
Glj'con's  statue.  The  head  of  this  formidable  hero  bears  a 
resemblance  to  his  father  Jupiter.  The  anatomical  detail  in 
the  body  and  limbs  is  more  distinct  than  in  any  other  work  of 
antiquity. 

THE  GRACES. 

The  above  is  the  name  applied  to  a  group  of  three  figures  in 
ancient  sculpture,  representing  three  youthful  sisters  embracing 
one  another.  The  Greek  and  Latin  names  of  these  goddesses, 
Charites  and  Gratise,  which  signify  the  exercise  of  kind  affec- 
tions or  the  charities  of  life,  are  well  represented  in  this  group. 
The  character  and  action  of  these  goddesses  have  given  the 
epithet  "graceful"  to  eas}^  undulating  motion.  They  w^ere 
always  clothed  until  after  the  time  of  Socrates. 

THE  BOXERS. 

This  group,  and  the  statue  called  the  Fighting  Gladiator, 
but  in  reality  the  Lesser  Ajax,  exhibit  the  greatest  muscular 
display  in  violent  action;  although  not  pleasing  subjects  to 
contemplate,  yet  an  anatomical  consideration  of  these  figures 
will  teach  us  the  cause  of  each  particular  form,  and  convince  us 
how  rationally  and  justly  the  ancients  copied  nature. 


SOPHOCLES  AND  DEMOSTHENES. 

These  two  noble  statues  —  the  one  of  the  greatest  dramatic 
poet,  the  other  of  the  greatest  orator  of  Greece  —  have  ever  been 
ranked  among  the  very  finest  efforts  of  human  genius  ;  and  had 
nothing  else  descended  to  us  from  that  polished  people,  we 
could  not  have  hesitated  for  a  moment  to  believe  that  human 
power  had  reached  its  culminating  point  in  the  grandest  and 
most  difficult  of  the  elef>:ant  arts. 


182  SCULPTURE. 

The  above  includes  only  a  small  portion  of  the  gTeat  produc- 
tions of  the  ancient  Greeks  in  this  department  of  the  art. 
When  Ave  see  it  stated  by  the  historian  that  three  thousand 
statues  were  once  carried  off  from  Rhodes  alone  by  the  phm- 
dering  Romans,  it  is  very  evident  that  the  catalogue  might  be 
enlarged  to  an  almost  indefinite  extent.  With  the  revolutions 
of  empire  and  the  changes  that  are  constantly  occurring 
on  the  earth's  surface  most  of  them  have  been  hidden  from 
human  vision ;  but,  like  a  great  many  seeming  evils,  this  was 
permitted  for  an  ultimate  benefit.  Their  apparent  destruction 
was  their  sure  preservation.  They  were  bm-ied  that  they  might 
rise  again.  Fresh  excavations  are  constantly  revealing  some 
lost  form,  not  only  to  excite  anew  our  admiration  of  Grecian 
superiority,  but  likewise  to  refine  and  improve  the  taste  of  the 
ages  that  should  come  after. 

None,  however,  of  the  more  recent  discoveries  exhibit  any 
principle  of  art  not  before  revealed  in  the  great  productions 
so  long  known  to  the  public.  Those  principles,  like  the  laws  of 
nature,  are  few  and  simple.  Many  or  most  of  them  have  to 
some  extent  been  considered  in  the  com^se  of  these  essays,  and 
especially  in  that  relating  to  natural  and  ideal  beauty;  the 
reader  is  referred  to  what  is  there  advanced  upon  this  subject. 
Ever  bearing  in  mind  what  the  ancient  sculptors  aimed  at,  he 
will  better  comprehend  what  they  accomplished. 


ESSAY    XII. 

GRECIAN     ARCHITECTURE. 

IF  it  be,  as  the  proverb  has  it,  that  "  Necessity  is  the  mother 
of  Iiiveution,"  then,  as  shelter  is  the  first  necessity  of  man, 
of  the  Fine  Arts  that  make  their  appeal  to  the  mind  through 
the  eye  and  the  ear,  architecture  may  reasonably  be  supposed 
to  have  been  the  "  first-born  "  ;  sculpture,  the  second  ;  painting, 
the  third ;  music,  the  fourth ;  and  poetry  the  last.  But, 
although  architecture  may  have  been  the  eldest  of  the  Fine 
Arts,  yet  certain  it  is,  that,  as  no  edifice  could  have  attained  the 
beauty  of  proportion  and  richness  of  ornament  without  the  aid 
of  sculpture,  and  as  the  practice  of  these  necessarily  involves 
a  knowledge  of  drawing,  the  interval  between  the  invention  of 
architecture,  painting,  and  sculpture  must  have  been  very  brief, 
barely  sufficient  to  settle  the  question  of  birthright.  To  what 
period  in  the  history  of  man  we  may  date  back  their  origin,  no 
one  has  yet  been  able  to  discover ;  but  as  the  i^lmighty  at  crea- 
tion implanted  in  the  human  bosom  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  and 
human  nature  has  been  always  the  same,  and  all  the  Fine  Arts 
equally  appeal  to  that  sentiment,  man  must  soon  after  his 
birth  have  found  out  a  way  to  gratify  those  feelings  by  inven- 
ti  ons  that  have  always  been  to  him  a  source  of  enjoyment  and 
improvement.  They  all  may  be  enjoyed,  to  a  certain  extent,  by 
the  most  uncultivated  taste ;  but  they  all  require  a  knowledge 
of  their  system,  and  a  mind  informed  of  the  principles  on  Avhich 
they  depend  for  beauty  for  their  highest  appreciation. 

As  we  read  in  the  books,  the  term  "  architect "  is  derived 
fi'om  the  Greek  name  of  its  professor,  Architecton,  chief  builder. 
So  that  when  architecture  is  spoken  of  without  a  qualifying 
adjective,  the  designing  and  building  of  edifices,  such  as  pal- 


184  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

aces,  mansions,  theatres,  churches,  courts,  bridges,  etc.,  is  in- 
tended ]  and  it  is  called  civil,  to  distinguish  it  from  naval  and 
military  architecture,  the  former  of  which  concerns  the  structure 
of  ships,  the  latter  the  building  of  fortifications  and  the  like. 

Although  every  description  of  building  may  have  the  term 
applied  to  it,  it  is  by  common  consent  restricted  to  such  edifices 
as  display  symmetrical  arrangement  in  the  general  design,  and 
fitting  proportions  in  its  parts,  with  a  certain  degree  of  orna- 
ment, varying  in  character  and  quantity  with  the  character  of 
the  building,  or  the  uses  to  which  it  is  to  be  approj^riated. 

Notwithstanding  the  art  of  building  originated  with  the  ne- 
cessities of  man,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  disposi- 
tions of  architecture,  as  above  defined,  were  first  employed  for 
domestic  purposes.  For  the  science  of  architecture  we  are  un- 
doubtedly indebted  to  man's  devotional  feelings  and  tendencies. 
What  we  understand  by  the  term  can  be  alone  deduced  from  the 
mode  he  adopted  in  arranging  and  constructing  edifices  for 
worship.  It  certainly  is  in  the  temples  of  pagan  nations  that 
we  find  the  most  complete  illustration  of  all  those  principles  of 
beauty  that  characterize  this  department  of  the  Fine  Arts.  We 
call  them  the  fine  arts,  although  we  might  with  greater  pro- 
priety have  said  the  useful  arts,  —  for,  although  it  is  usual  to 
make  two  classes  of  art,  and  to  characterize  one  as  the  fine,  the. 
other  as  the  useful,  yet  it  is  a  distinction,  in  one  aspect  of  the 
matter,  without  a  diiference,  as  that  which  administers  to  the 
gratification  of  the  taste  can  hardly  be  regarded  as  less  useful 
and  necessar}^  than  that  which  administers  to  the  wants  of  the 
body  ;  an  appetite  or  desire  in  the  one  case  and  the  other 
were  implanted  in  the  human  constitution,  and  both  equally 
require  gratification  and  nourishment. 

,In  no  way  is  man  so  much  imposed  upon  as  by  names,  and 
the  characterization  now  referred  to  has  been  the  means  of 
retarding,  to  an  incalculable  degree,  the  encouragement,  and  con- 
sequently the  j^rogress,  of  art. 

There  can  be  no  possible  objection  to  the  prefix  "  fine  "  as 
implying  a  superior  degree  of  delicacy  and  elegance  ;  the  evil 
results  from  its  being  employed  in  contradistinction  to  "  useful,'' 


GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  185 

a  term  that  in  the  connection  is  regarded  as  the  synonyme  of 
beneficial,  necessary,  something  imperatively  and  specially 
demanded  by  the  necessities  of  man's  physical  existence,  while 
the  former  term  with  the  mass  of  mankind  implies,  if  not 
something  snperfluons,  yet  not  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
full  oijoyment  of  life,  —  which  is  so  far  from  being  true,  that  man 
cannot  attain  to  his  full  stature  and  ultimate  refinement  without 
the  civilizing  influence  of  the  Fine  Arts. 

"  Iiigenuas  didicisse  fideliter  artes 
Emollit  mores,  nee  sinit  esse  feros," 

is  as  true  now,  as  when  first  uttered,  two  thousand  years  ago, 
by  the  graceful  and  elegant  Horace. 

In  the  view  that  we  are  now  to  take  of  architecture,  as  that 
of  Egypt  takes  precedence,  chronologically  considered,  of  all 
known  forms,  and  to  that  ancient  country  the  world  is  indebted 
for  the  elements  of  all  those  arts  and  sciences  a  knowledge 
of  which  constitutes  the  essential  difterence  between  a  civilized 
and  a  savage  state,  it  might  seem  hardly  decorous  to  pass  it  by 
in  silence ;  and  yet,  as  Egj^ptiau  architecture  is  comparatively 
of  little  value  at  the  present  day  as  an  object  of  imitation, 
notwithstanding  the  impressive  grandeur  of  its  style  as  ex- 
hibited in  the  colossal  dimensions  of  some  of  their  ancient 
temples,  —  a  style  well  suited  by  its  massive  proportions  to 
typif}'  the  greatness,  as  by  its  solidity  the  immutability,  and 
by  its  continuity  of  outline  and  repetition  of  parts  to  illustrate 
the  eternity,  of  their  Deity,  thus  constituting  their  temple  the 
embodiment  of  their  religion,  —  we  will  proceed  without  further 
preface  to  the  consideration  of  architecture  as  it  existed  in  a 
country  "  where  ideal  art  first  took  a  s^'stematic  form,  and 
established  principles  thenceforth  to  be  recognized  wherever 
civilization  should  plant  itself,"  —  principles  that  can  never  be 
changed  by  time,  nor  rendered  obsolete  by  fashion,  —  principles, 
the  full  appreciation  of  which  must  always  be  regarded  in  any  one 
as  a  test  of  correct  and  matured  taste  in  this  department  of  art. 

As  gathered  from'  the  historic  record,  the  progi-ess  of  im- 
provement in  Grecian  architecture  occupied  a  period  of  three 


186  GEECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

centuries,  from  the  age  of  Solon  and  Pythagoras,  about  six 
hundred  years  before  Christ,  when  the  temples  of  Jupiter  at 
Olympia  and  at  Ephesus  were  begun,  to  the  time  when, 
under  the  administration  of  Pericles,  the  ornamental  style  of 
Grecian  architecture  attained  its  utmost  beauty  and  perfection 
in  the  temple  of  Minerva  in  the  Acropolis  of  Athens,  —  built 
after  the  model  of  that  of  Jupiter  at  Olympia,  —  and  finally 
concluding  this  first  period  with  the  completion  of  the  temjDle 
of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  in  the  time  of  Alexander,  two  hundred 
and  twenty  years  from  its  commencement. 

All  the  great  examples  of  Grecian  architecture  of  which  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  speak  in  this  essay  are  included  under 
three  orders,  —  the  Doric,  Ionic,  and  Corinthian,  so  named  after 
the  places  where  they  originated,  or,  rather,  where  they  are 
said  to  have  originated,  as  there  exists  some  uncertainty  in 
this  respect.  Tlie  above,  with  the  two  orders  subsequently 
added  by  the  Romans,  the  Tuscan  and  Composite,  constitute 
what  is  called  classic,  as  distinguished  from  the  Gothic  and  all 
other  architectures. 

The  term  "order,"  in  classic  architecture,  is  employed  to 
designate  an  entire  column  or  pillar,  with  the  entablature. 
The  column  being  that  portion  which  supports,  and  the  entab- 
lature the  superstructure  which  lies  directly  upon  it. 

The  column  is  divided  into  three  parts :  the  base,  the  shaft, 
and  the  capital ;  the  base  being  the  lower  part  of  it,  the 
capital  the  head,  and  the  intermediate  portion  the  shaft. 

The  entablature  is  also  divided  into  three  parts  :  the  archi- 
trave, the  portion  immediately  above  the  columns,  lying  horizon- 
tally upon  and  uniting  them  ;  the  frieze,  the  central  space  ;  and 
the  cornice,  the  upper  projecting  mouldings,  forming  the  cap  of 
the  entablature. 

These  unitedly  constitute  an  order  in  architecture,  so  that 
when  it  is  said  of  a  building  that  it  is  of  this  or  that  order,  the 
meaning  is  that  the  columns  and  entablature  which  go  to  make 
a  portion  of  the  structure  are,  as  the  case  may  be,  either  Doric, 
Ionic,  or  Corinthian. 

Although   each    order   is   distinguished  from  the  others  by 


[TJiriTBRSITr] 


UPPER  FACIA.  =-'  ----- 

LOWER  FACIA. 

ABACUS."! 


CYMA  RECTA. 


TUSCAN   ORDER. 


GKECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  187 

characteristics  peculiarly  its  own,  and  each  dictates  a  style  of 
finish  and  proportic^ns  for  the  building  peculiar  to  itself,  yet  the 
term  "  order,"  in  classic  architecture,  regards  only  ihc2^o)Hico,  and 
does  not  necessarily  include  the  pediment,  —  that  triangular  por- 
tion of  the  front  which  is  above  the  entablatm-e,  and  formed 
by  the  slope  of  the  two  parts  of  the  roof,  —  as  some  temples  are 
complete  without  a  roof. 

The  parts  of  which  an  order  is  composed  are  divided  into 
those  which  are  essential  and  those  which  are  suhordinate,  or 
subservient.  The  essential  are  those  already  described  as  con- 
stituting the  column  and  entablature.  The  subordinate  are  the 
moiddiugs  and  details  into  which  those  parts  are  divided. 
These  mouldings  are  eight  in  number  in  regard  to  form,  but  less 
or  more  in  regard  to  appropriation,  and  thus  named  :  reglet,  or 
listel,  torus,  astragal,  ovolo,  cavetto,  talon,  cyma  recta,  cyma 
reversa,  or  ogee,  fillet,  scotia,  cymatium,  or  bandelet,  and 
corona. 

The  reglet  is  a  small  flat  moulding,  forming  the  upper  portion 
of  the  cornice.  The  listel  is  the  same,  but  called  listel  when 
forming  the  upper  moulding  of  a  capital,  an  architrave,  or 
volute.  The  torus  is  a  large  semicircular  moulding,  like  the 
semi-diameter  of  a  rope.  The  astragal  is  a  small  torus,-  like  a 
bead.  The  ovolo  is  an  exact  quarter  round  convex  moulding. 
The  cavetto  is  a  quarter  round  concave  moulding.  The 
cyma  recta  is  a  cavetto  and  ovolo  united.  The  cyma  reversa 
is  an  ovolo  and  cavetto  united.  The  ovolo  forming  the 
lower  portion  of  the  cyma  recta,  but  the  upper  portion  of  the 
cyma  reversa,  making  the  well-known  moulding  called  ogee.  The 
talon  is  a  quarter  round  convex  moulding.  The  fillet  is  a  small 
list-like  moulding.  The  scotia  is  a  hollow  moulding.  The 
cymatium,  or  bandelet,  is  a  square-sided  or  plain  moulding, 
forming  the  upper  member  of  the  architrave.  The  corona  is  the 
projecting  face  of  the  cornice.  As  it  is  impossible  by  any 
WTitten  description  to  convey  any  correct  idea  of  these  mould- 
ings, and  the  place  they  fill  in  the  ornamental  part  of  archi- 
tecture is  so  important,  the  reader  is  refeiTed  to  the  drawings 
of  the  several  orders  amon^j:  the  illustrations. 


188  GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE. 

The  mouldings  have  appointed  places  indicated  or  determined 
by  their  character.  Thus,  the  cyma  and  cavetto,  being  of 
weak  contour,  are  only  used  for  the  covering  of  other  parts, 
while  the  ovolo  and  talon,  from  their  peculiar  form,  seem  in- 
tended to  support  other  important  mouldings  or  members. 
The  torus  and  astragal,  bearing  a  resemblance  to  a  rope,  appear 
calculated  to  bind  and  fortify  the  parts  to  which  they  are 
applied  ;  the  use  of  the  fillet  and  scotia  is  to  separate  one 
moulding  from  another,  and  give  variety  to  the  general  form. 

The  ovolo  and  talon  are  mostly  placed  above  the  level  of  the 
eye;  when  placed  below,  they  are  applied  only  as  crowning 
members.  The  place  of  the  scotia  is  below  the  level  of  the 
eye. 

When  the  fillet  is  very  wide,  and  used  under  the  cyma  of  the 
cornice,  it  is  called  a  corona ;  if  under  a  corona,  it  is  called  a 
band.  Of  the  two  geometrical  figures,  the  circle  and  ellipse, 
the  Greeks  preferred  the  latter,  or  some  other  conic  sections, 
for  the  profile  of  their  mouldings. 

There  are  other  subordinate  portions  of  a  column  and  entabla- 
ture than  those  now  described,  the  consideration  of  which  more 
properly  comes  within  the  description  next  to  be  given  of  the 
several  orders ;  and,  first,  of 

THE  DORIC   ORDER. 

Of  the  three  orders  of  architecture  among  the  Greeks,  the 
Doric  is  the  oldest  and  simplest.  The  shaft  of  the  column  has 
twenty  flutings,  which  are  separated  by  a  sharp  edge,  and  not 
by  a  vertical  fillet,  as  in  the  other  orders,  and  they  are  less  than 
a  semicircle  in  depth.  The  capital  consists  of  only  two  parts ; 
the  upper  section  is  a  square  flat  tile,  called,  as  that  section  is 
in  all  orders,  the  abacus.  Beneath  the  abacus  is  the  mould- 
ing, called  ovolo,  under  that  a  few  small  fillets,  and  about  the 
width  of  the  ovolo  below  it,  encircling  the  column,  is  a  deep- 
cut  channel.  This  order  in  Grecian  architecture  has  no 
base ;  and  its  column  is  about  six  and  a  half  diameters  in 
height. 


GRECIAN  AKCIIITECTUIIE.  189 

In  this  order  that  portion  of  the  entablature  called  the  archi- 
trave is  surmounted  with  a  plain  fillet,  called  the  tenia. 

The  frieze,  the  section  next  to  the  architrave,  is  ornamented 
by  flat  projections,  with  three  channels  cut  in  each,  called 
triglyphs.  The  spaces  between  the  triglyphs  are  called  metopes, 
and  in  the  best  exami)les  are  always  sculptured  in  low  relief. 
Under  the  triglyphs,  and  below  the  tenia  of  the  architrave,  are 
placed  small  drops,  or  gutta^.  Along  the  top  of  the  frieze  runs 
a  broad  fillet,  called  the  capital  of  the  trigiy^^hs.  The  soffit,  or 
under  part  of  the  cornice  (the  section  of  the  entablature  above 
the  frieze),  has  broad  and  shallow  blocks  worked  on  it,  called 
mutules,  one  of  which  is  placed  over  each  metope  and  each 
triglyj^h ;  on  the  under  surface  are  several  rows  of  guttse,  or 
drops. 

In  the  Eoman  Doric,  the  shaft  is  usually  seven  diameters 
in  height,  and  generally  has  a  base,  sometimes  the  Attic,  and 
sometimes  that  which  is  peculiar  to  the  order,  consisting  of  a 
plinth  (the  square  lower  division),  a  torus,  and  an  astragal 
above  it.  The  capital  has  a  small  moulding  round  the  toj)  of 
the  abacus,  and  the  ovolo  is  in  section  a  quarter  circle,  and  is  not 
quirked  or  turned  over  on  top,  as  in  the  Greek  Doric.  Under 
the  ovolo  are  two  or  three  small  fillets,  and  below  them  a 
colorino,  or  neck,  and  not  the  deep-cut  channel,  as  in  the  first- 
named  order.  According  to  the  Roman  method,  the  triglyphs 
at  the  angles  or  corners  of  the  building  are  placed  over  the  cen- 
tre of  the  column,  and  at  a  distance  from  the  angles  ;  in  the 
Grecian  method,  they  are  brought  well  up  to  the  corner.  In 
the  former  method  the  metopes  are  an  exact  square ;  some- 
times the  mutules  are  omitted,  and  a  row  of  dentils  is  worked 
under  the  cornice. 


THE   lOXIC   OEDER. 

The  most  distinguishing  feature  of  this  order  is  the  capital, 
which  is  ornamented  with  four  spiral  projections,  called  volutes. 
In  the  Greek  examples  they  are  aiTanged  to  exhibit  a  flat  fixce, 
on  two  sides  of  the  capital ;  in  the  Roman,  they  spring  out  of 


190  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

the  mouldings  under  the  angles  or  corners  of  the  abacus,  so  as 
to  render  the  four  faces  of  the  capital  uniform,  the  sides  of  the 
abacus  being  worked  holloiv  like  the  Corinthian.  The  principal 
moulding  is  an  ovolo,  and  is  almost  invariably  carved ;  sometimes 
other  enrichments  are  introduced  upon  the  capital,  and  some- 
times there  is  a  colorino,  or  neck,  below  the  ovolo,  ornamented 
with  leaves  and  flowers. 

The  shaft  of  the  column  in  this  order  varies  from  about  eight 
and 'a  quarter  to  nine  and  a  half  diameters  in  height;  it  is 
sometimes  plain,  and  sometimes  fluted  with  twenty-four  flutings, 
separated  from  each  other  by  small  fillets. 

The  bases  used  in  this  order  are  principally  varieties  of  the 
Attic.  Sometimes  the  base  consists  of  two  scotise  (hollow 
mouldings),  separated  by  small  fillets  and  beads,  above  which  is 
a  large  and  prominent  torus  (a  large  round  moulding),  com- 
monly used  in  this  part  of  the  column. 

The  members  of  the  entablature  in  the  Ionic  order  are 
sometimes  perfectly  plain,  and  sometimes  ornamented  richly, 
especially  the  bed  mouldings  of  the  cornice,  which  are  frequently 
cut  with  a  row  of  dentils,  or  small  square  blocks. 

THE  CORmXHIAN   OEDER. 

The  lightest  and  most  ornamental  of  the  three  orders  is  the 
Corinthian.  As  of  the  Ionic,  so  of  the  Corinthian,  the  capital  is 
the  great  distinction. 

The  entire  column,  including  the  base,  half  a  diameter  in 
height,  and  the  capital,  a  whole  or  more  than  a  diameter, 
measures  about  ten  diameters,  and  is  always  fluted. 

The  capital  consists  of  a  cluster  of  small  mouldings  at  the 
bottom,  an  astragal,  fillet,  and  apophyges ;  then,  above  that,  a 
bell  and  horned  abacus.  The  bell  is  set  round  with  two  rows 
of  leaves,  eight  in  each  row,  and  a  third  row  of  leaves  supports 
eight  small  open  volutes,  four  of  which  are  under  the  four  horns 
or  corners  of  the  abacus,  and  the  other  four  are  under  the 
centra]  recessed  part  of  the  abacus,  and  have  over  them  a 
flower  and  other  ornament.     These  volutes  spring  out  of  small 


GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE.  191 

twisted  husks,  placed  between  the  leaves  of  the  second  row, 
which  are  called  caulicoles.  The  abacus  consists  of  an  ovolo, 
fillet,  and  cavctto,  like  the  modern  Ionic. 

The  base  belonging  to  this  order  resembles  the  Attic,  with  two 
scotia),  or  hollow  mouldings  between  the  tori  (large  round 
mouldings),  separated  by  two  astragals  (small  round  mouldings). 

The  entablature  of  the  Corinthian  order  is  frequently  very 
highly  enriched;  the  flat  surface,  as  well  as  the  mouldings, 
being  sculptured  with  a  gi'eat  variety  of  very  delicate  ornaments. 
The  architrave  is  generally  formed  into  two  or  three  faces  or 
faciie.  In  the  Ionic  there  is  but  one  flat,  unbroken  face ;  the 
frieze  in  the  best  examples  is  flat.  In  the  Doric  it  is  divided  into 
triglyphs  and  metopes ;  the  frieze  is  also  sometimes  united  to 
the  upper  filht  of  the  architrave  by  an  apophyge,  or  small  cur- 
vature at  the  top.  The  cornice  has  both  modillions  (brackets) 
and  dentils  (small  blocks). 

Of  the  three  orders  of  Grecian  architecture,  the  Doric  is  the 
gravest  that  has  been  received  into  civil  use.  When  the  three 
orders  are  employed  in  the  same  structm-e,  and  in  different 
stories,  its  rank  is  the  lowest  (next  to  the  foundation),  as  being 
more  massive  than  the  others,  and  consequently  more  able  to 
support.  Eoland  Friart,  a  noted  French  architect  and  author 
of  the  first  part  of  the  seventeenth  centurj-,  quaintly  says  of  it, 
"  He  is  best  known  by  his  place  w^ien  he  is  in  company,  and  by 
the  peculiar  ornament  of  his  frieze  when  alone." 

"  The  Ionic  order,"  continues  Friart,  "  represents  a  kind  of 
feminine  slenderness,  not  like  a  light  housewife,  but  in  decent 
dressing  hath  much  of  the  matron.  He  is  best  known  by  his 
trimmings,  for  the  body  of  this  column  is  always  channelled  like 
a  plaited  gown ;  the  capital  dressed  on  each  side,  not  much  un- 
like woman's  hair,  in  a  spiral  wreathing,  which  they  call  Ionian 
volute,  the  com  ice  indented,  and  the  frieze  sometimes  swelling 
like  a  pillow.     These  are  his  best  characteristics." 

"  The  Corinthian,"  he  further  says,  "  is  a  column  lasciviously 
decked  like  a  courtesan,  and  therefore  much  participating  of 
the  place  where  it  was  first  born,  —  Corinth  being  without 
controversy  the  wantonest  place  in  the  world.     The  frieze  is 


192  GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE. 

adorned  with  all  sorts  of  figures  and  various  compartments  at 
pleasure.  His  place  is  one  degree  above  the  Ionic,  which,  in  the 
course  of  the  arrangement,  stands  directly  above  the  Doric.  The 
capital  is  cut  into  the  most  beautiful  leaf  that  nature  doth 
yield,  the  acanthus.  As  the  principal  characteristic  of  the  Doric 
is  solidity,  his  are  delicacy  and  variety." 

Columns  sometimes  rest  on  a  kind  of  second  base  called  a 
pedestal.  A  pedestal,  however,  is  not  necessarily  an  appendage 
to  an  order,  any  more  than  is  a  ]3ediment. 

Like  a  column,  it  has  three  parts,  the  plinth,  the  die,  and  the 
cornice,  —  the  plinth  being  the  lower  part,  and  corresponding  to 
the  base ;  the  die,  the  middle  portion,  and  corresponding  to  the 
shaft ;  and  the  cornice,  the  upper  portion,  corresponding  to  the 
capital  of  a  column. 

Everything  in  Greek  architecture  was  regulated  by  a  law  or 
canon.  We  have  already  stated  that  there  were  certain  fixed 
proportions  between  the  height  of  a  column  and  its  diameter. 
There  was  also  a  certain  fixed  proportion  between  the  several 
parts  of  a  column,  — so  much  of  the  entire  column  being  allotted 
to  the  base,  so  much  to  the  shaft,  and  so  much  to  the  capital. 
These  proportions,  it  is  true,  varied  in  the  different  orders,  but 
w^ere  always  the  same  in  the  same  order. 

There  was  also  a  certain  fixed  proportion  between  the  height 
of  the  column  and  the  height  of  the  entablature ;  the  latter, 
as  a  general  thing,  being  one  fourth  of  the  height  of  the  former. 
And  then  again,  in  all  orders  except  the  Doric,  the  entablature 
being  divided  into  ten  parts,  three  are  given  to  the  architrave, 
three  to  the  frieze,  and  four  to  the  cornice.  In  the  Doric,  the 
whole  height  of  the  entablature  being  divided  into  eight  parts, 
two  only  were  given  to  the  architrave,  three  to  the  frieze,  and 
three  to  the  cornice. 

There  were  also  certain  predetermined  proportions  for  a 
pedestal,  the  entire  height  being  one  third  of  that  of  the 
column ;  this  is  divided  into  nine  parts,  six  of  which  are  given  to 
the  die  or  shaft,  two  to  the  base,  and  one  to  the  cornice,  and  so 
on  with  the  several  parts  of  the  entire  edifice.  There  was  no 
hap-hazard  about  anything  the  Greeks  did  in  any  of  the  Fine 


DORIC   ORDER. 


IONIC   ORDER. 


or  THl 

;fIVBRSITT] 


IPO 


^^ 


CORINTHIAN    ORDER. 


COMPOSITE  ORDER. 


'  at  TH»      -^ 


GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE.  193 

Arts.  They  had  a  hiw  by  which  they  worked  witli  the  precision 
of  a  straight  hue,  and  that  was  the  line  of  truth. 

Some  might  be  (hsposed  to  call  this  conventional ;  but  it  is 
to  be  remembered  that  the  law  by  which  their  architects  worked 
was  not  an  arbitraiy  one,  did  not  precede  the  requirement,  but 
was  deduced  from  certain  facts  of  harmony. 

The  Greeks  from  repeated  experiments  found  that  the  bring- 
ing together  of  certain  proportional  forms  and  arranging  them 
in  certain  relative  positions  gave  pleasure  to  the  eye  and  the 
mind,  and  hence  concluded  that  they  were  the  right  forms  in 
the  right  places,  and  that  they  could  not  be  added  to,  or  the 
reverse,  without  producing  imeasiness  in  the  eye  and  the  mind ; 
and  thus  they  established  a  canon  of  taste  and  beauty,  the 
observance  of  which  led  to  favorable  and  the  same  results. 

Having  thus  described,  and,  as  we  trust,  rendered  intelligible, 
the  several  orders  of  architecture,  our  next  endeavor  will  be  to 
give  some  correct  idea  of  the  forms  of  Grecian  temples,  show 
the  fitness  of  some  for  special  purposes,  and  illustrate  the 
several  orders  by  examples. 

The  forms  of  Greek  temples  generally  were  oblong,  and  con- 
sisted of  a  body  or  cell,  with  a  portico  at  one  or  both  ends  sup- 
porting a  pediment.  Often  they  were  entirely  surrounded  by  a 
colonnade,  sometimes  by  a  double  one ;  occasionally  they  were 
circular,  and  of  this  class  there  were  only  two  kinds, — the  mo- 
nopteral,  which  was  merely  an  open  cell  of  columns,  supporting 
an  entablature  or  roof;  and  the  pereptcral,  which  had  a  circular 
cell  surrounded  by  a  colonnade. 

Of  the  oblong  temples  there  were  several  varieties,  the  sim- 
plest of  which  was  called  in  antis. 

This  consisted  of  a  plain  cell,  the  side  walls  of  which  projected 
at  the  front  end  of  the  building,  and  were  terminated  with  flat 
columns,  or  pilasters,  in  the  opening  between  which  were  two 
columns  supporting  an  entablature  and  pediment. 

The  prost3'los  temple  had  a  portico  of  four  columns  standing 
in  front.  The  amphiprostylos  had  a  portico  of  this  last  kind 
at  each  end. 

13 


194  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

The  perepteral  temple  had  a  portico  of  six  columns  at  each 
end,  and  a  colonnade  of  eleven  columns  on  each  side  detached, 
the  columns  at  each  angle  being  included  in  both  computations. 

The  pseudo-perepteral  was  like  the  perepteral,  but  having 
the  breadth  of  the  cell  increased,  so  that  the  side  walls  became 
incorporated  with  the  columns  of  the  lateral  colonnades. 

The  dipteral  had  porticos  of  eight  columns  on  the  fronts  or 
ends,  and  a  double  colonnade  at  the  sides,  the  outer  one  con- 
sisting of  sixteen  columns,  counting  those  at  each  angle. 

The  pseudo-dipteral  was  precisely  the  same  as  the  dipteral, 
with  the  inner  range  of  columns  omitted  throughout. 

Some  large  temples  had  their  roofs  left  open  at  the  top,  and 
when  so  constructed  were  called  hypeetral. 

Temples  were  also  classified  according  to  the  number  of  col- 
umns in  the  front  porticos.  The  tetrastyle  had  four  columns ; 
the  hexastyle  six ;  the  octostyle  eight ;  the  decastyle  ten. 

The  width  of  the  spaces  between  the  columns  varied ;  and  the 
porticos  were  designated,  according  to  the  greater  or  less  dis- 
tance, serostyle,  diastyle,  eustyle,  systyle,  and  pyreiostyle. 

TEMPLES   OF  THE  DOEIC   ORDER. 

Of  the  three  orders  of  architecture,  the  national  was  the  Doric. 
This  was  never  used  for  domestic  purposes,  but  was  appro- 
priated for  the  temples  of  the  gods  and  some  of  their  acces- 
sories. 

The  structures  not  of  a  religious  character  are  either  Ionic  or 
Corinthian,  or  a  union  of  these  wuth  some  of  the  features  of  the 
Doric ;  and  in  all  Greece  and  the  Grecian  colonies,  except  Ionia, 
there  are  very  few  examples  of  a  religious  character  that  are  not 
of  the  Doric  order,  and  none  which  are  of  the  Corinthian. 

The  probable  cause  of  this  appropriation  of  the  Doric  to  re- 
ligious purposes  was  its  extreme  simplicity,  —  simplicity  being 
the  element  of  grandeur ;  as  the  appropriation  of  the  Corinthian 
and  the  Ionic  to  less  grave  purposes  derived  a  fitness  from  pre- 
senting a  greater  variety  of  forms,  —  variety  being  the  element 
of  beauty,  not  of  grandeur. 


GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  ^       195 

The  forms  of  the  Doric  temple  were  neither  various  nor  com- 
plex. The  fact  is  that  the  architecture  of  this  temple  was 
only  a  frame  or  groundwork  for  the  display  of  the  higher  arts 
of  sculpture  and  painting ;  the  introduction,  therefore,  of  any 
novelty  that  might  attract  attention  or  interfere  with  the  pre- 
eminence they  wished  to  assign  to  the  more  important  arts  was 
carefully  avoided.  It  was  in  consequence  of  this  feeling  that 
the  plan  of  almost  all  their  Doric  temples  may  be  said  to  be  the 
same,  with  only  such  variations  as  were  requisite  in  consequence 
of  increased  size. 

The  smallest  was  that  of  a  cell  (the  body  of  the  temple), 
with  a  small  porch,  as  already  described,  of  two  pillars  in  antis, 
between  two  small  piers,  at  the  termination  of  the  walls  of  the 
cell. 

The  second  form  consisted  of  a  duplication  of  this  very  simple 
one  by  placing  two  such  temples  back  to  back. 

The  third  was  formed  by  surrounding  this  by  a  peristyle 
or  colonnade  which  contained  six  columns  at  each  end  and  twice 
the  number  on  the  sides,  the  columns  (as  was  always  the  case) 
at  the  angles  or  corners  being  included  in  both,  making  unitedly 
only  thirty-two  columns. 

The  fourth  form  of  the  Doric  temple  was  the  octostyle,  of 
which  only  two  examples  are  known,  one  being  the  Parthenon 
at  Athens. 

There  are,  besides  these,  two  or  three  exceptional  temples  of 
this  order,  such  as  the  famous  one  of  Ceres  at  Eleusis,  and  of 
Jupiter  at  Agi'igentum. 

As  little  variety  of  invention  as  there  is  displayed  in  the  form 
of  the  Doric  temple,  still  less  was  there  in  the  order  itself,  w'hich 
remained  nearly  the  same  from  the  time  of  its  first  introduction 
till  the  latest  period,  the  only  change  being  a  gradual  attenua- 
tion of  proportion  and  increase  of  height,  so  regular  as  to  form 
an  almost  certain  indication  of  the  age  of  the  building.  "  In 
the  Parthenon,  however,  we  have  an  example  where  the  exact 
and  perfect  proportion  seems  to  have  been  attained  between 
constructive  stability  (as  in  Egyptian  architecture)  and  aesthetic 
elegance  ;  and  as  every  detail  there  is  executed  with  the  utmost 


196        .  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

mathematical  precision,  and  all  the  curves  are  almost  perfectly 
drawn  conic  sections  of  the  highest  order,  the  building  by  gen- 
eral consent  combines  more  technic  and  aesthetic  merit  than  any 
other  of  its  size  in  existence." 

"  Perfect,  however,  as  the  Doric  order  is,  as  an  architectural 
mode  of  expression,  this  is  not  its  principal  aim  or  gi'eatest 
merit ;  and,  to  judge  of  it  fairly,  it  must  be  considered  in  refer- 
ence to  its  capabilities  of  displaying  and  giving  effect  to  the 
painting  and  sculpture  which  were  its  invariable  accompani- 
ments, and  formed  a  most  essential  part  of  the  order  in  its 
integrity. 

"  In  every  Doric  temple  the  two  pediments  were  occupied  by 
two  groups  of  sculpture,  which  really  were  its  two  most  impor- 
tant external  features  :  and,  besides  this,  the  happy  division 
of  the  frieze  into  square  metopes,  by  the  introduction  of  tri- 
glyphs,  enabled  the  artist  to  group  the  figures  (in  bas-relief  on 
each  metope)  into  any  number  of  separate  pictures  without 
forcing  him  to  continue  his  subject  all  around  the  temple,  or 
to  invent  some  one  convenient  mode  of  separating  one  group  or 
subject  from  another,  while  the  external  wall  of  the  cell,  as  at 
Athens,  or  the  internal  one,  as  at  Phigalia,  enabled  him  to 
introduce  any  length  of  continuous  sculpture  that  might  be 
thought  necessary. 

"  Single  statues  were  provided  for  in  the  cell,  so  that  there 
was  no  mode  of  sculpture  that  did  not  find  a  place  where  it  was 
felt  to  be  wanted  for  the  completion  of  the  design.  At  the  same 
time  all  the  mouldings  of  the  order  were  so  simple  in  form  and 
outline  that  they  required  painting  for  their  relief;  and  they 
must  have  been  such  as  were  best  suited  to  display  the  elegance 
of  STich  polychromatic  decorations  to  advantage."  The  painting 
of  the  mouldings  by  the  Greeks  has  sometimes  been  doubted. 
But  it  is  now  generall}'-  conceded  that  they  painted  not  only 
their  mouldings,  but  also  a  portion  of  the  frieze,  and  always  the 
background  of  their  bas-reliefs  ;  and,  if  the  temple  was  of  any 
coarser  material  than  marble,  it  was  plastered  over  and  entirely 
colored.  If  of  marble,  with  the  exceptions  mentioned  above,  it 
was  left  white.     The  frieze  of  the  Parthenon  was  painted. 


GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  197 

The  painting  of  marble  does  not  agree  with  our  ideas  of  a  cor- 
rect taste.  The  Greeks,  however,  admired  the  effect ;  and  as  we 
cannot  judge  of  it  from  actual  observation  ourselves,  and  they 
exhibited  such  good  taste  in  everything  else  connected  with  art, 
it  is  safe,  we  think,  to  let  them  decide  for  us,  and  abide  by  their 
verdict. 

"As  portrayed  in  our  books,  and  imitated,  or,  rather,  not 
imitated,  by  our  architects,  the  Doric  order  is  cold  and  meaning- 
less ;  but  used  as  the  Greeks  used  it,  it  is  the  greatest  triumph 
material  art  has  ever  achieved."  The  reader  hardly  needs  to  be 
told  that  the  finest  specimen  of  this  order  is  the  Parthenon,  or 
temple  of  Minerva,  the  virgin  patroness  of  the  city  of  Athens. 

There  were  other  temples  in  Greece,  with  a  reputation 
approaching  that  of  the  Parthenon,  as  that  at  Delphi,  and  also 
that  at  Tegise.  These,  however,  have  entirely  perished,  and 
of  the  great  one  at  Oh^mpia  only  the  foundation  can  be  traced ; 
but  the  Parthenon  remains,  and  with  as  brilliant  a  reputation 
now  as  it  had  in  the  days  of  its  founders ;  shorn  of  some  of  its 
beauties,  it  is  true,  but  still  the  finest  specimen  of  architecture 
the  world  has  yet  witnessed. 

A  temple  so  renowned  requires  more  than  a  passing  notice. 
We  will,  therefore,  present  to  the  reader  the  best  description  we 
can  find  of  it,  gathered  from  the  works  of  President  Felton  of 
Harvard  University,  and  other  reliable  w^riters. 

It  stands  with  two  other  buildings,  the  one  called  the 
Propylaeum,  the  other  the  Erectheum,  on  the  lofty  rock  of  the 
Acropolis,  the  upper  town  or  citadel  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Athens.  It  was  built  by  Ictinus  and  Callicrates,  mider  the 
superintendence  of  Phidias,  in  the  reign  of  Pericles,  about 
2,250  years  ago,  or  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth  century  before 
Christ. 

The  Parthenon  was  an  octostyle  temple,  that  is,  one  having 
eight  columns  on  each  end,  and  sixteen  on  each  side,  and  called 
a  peristyle ;  it  was  built  of  Pentelic  marble ;  it  stands  on  a 
base  approached  by  three  steps,  each  twenty-one  inches  high, 
and  about  twenty-four  inches  wide.  Its  breadth,  on  the  upper 
step,  is  one  hundred  and  one  feet ;  its  length,  two  hundred  and 


198  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

twenty-eight  feet;  its  height,  from  the  upper  step  of  the  sty- 
lobate,  or  what  we  call  steps,  is  fifty-nine  feet. 

The  length  of  the  sekos,  or  body  of  the  building,  is  one 
hundred  and  ninety-three  feet ;  and  its  breadth,  seventy-one 
feet,  not  including  fractions ;  the  space  between  the  peristyle 
and  the  wall  is  nine  feet  on  the  sides,  and  eleven  on  the  fronts 
or  two  ends. 

The  interior  is  divided  by  a  transverse  wall  into  two  unequal 
portions :  the  eastern  being  the  naios  proper,  an  apartment  for 
the  statue  of  Minerva,  ninety  feet  in  length,  the  western  portion 
being  commonly  used  as  the  treasury  of  the  city,  forty-three 
feet  long. 

Within  the  naios  was  a  range  of  ten  Doric  columns  on  each 
side,  and  three  on  the  west  end,  forming  three  sides  of  a 
quadrangle ;  above  them  an  architrave  suj)ported  an  upper 
range  of  columns,  forming  a  kind  of  gallery.  Fourteen  feet 
distant  from  the  western  columns  is  the  pavement  of  Peiriac 
stone,  on  which  the  great  chryselephantine  statue  of  Athene 
was.  placed,  thirty-eight  feet  in  height.  Besides  the  internal 
decorations,  the  outside  of  the  temple  was  ornamented  with 
three  classes  of  sculpture. 

1,  The  sculpture  of  the  pediments  were  independent  statues 
resting  on  the  deep  cornice.  The  subject  of  those  on  the  east- 
ern pediment  was  the  birth  of  Athene  ;  of  those  on  the  western, 
the  contest  between  Poseidon  and  Athene  for  the  possession  of 
Attica.  2.  The  groups  on  the  metopes,  ninety-two  in  number, 
represented  combats  of  Hercules  and  Theseus,  of  the  centaurs 
and  amazons,  and  perhaps  some  figures  of  the  Persian  war. 
These  groups  were  executed  in  high-relief.  3.  The  frieze  round 
the  upper  border  of  the  cella  of  the  Parthenon  contained  an 
exhibition  of  the  Panathenaic  procession.  All  these  sculptures 
were  in  the  highest  style  of  the  art,  executed  either  by  Phidias 
himself  or  under  his  immediate  direction.  Most  of  these  were 
in  place  in  167G,  and  drawings  of  the  figures  on  the  pediments 
were  made  by  a  French  artist  in  1674.  The  interior  of  the 
temple  was  thrown  down  in  1787,  by  the  explosion  of  a  bomb 
in  a  Turkish   powder-magazine.      The  front    columns   of   the 


GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE.  199 

peristyle  escaped  ;  but  eight  of  the  columns  on  the  north  side, 
and  six  of  those  on  the  south,  were  overthrown.  Moresini,  in 
endeavoring  to  remove  some  of  the  figures  on  the  pediments, 
broke  them,  and  otherwise  did  gi-eat  injury.  At  the  beginnino- 
of  the  present  century  Lord  Elgin  dismantled  a  considerable 
part  of  the  Parthenon  of  the  remaining  sculptures,  which  form 
the  most  precious  treasures  of  the  British  Museum  at  the  present 
moment.  "  The  i)athetic  beauty  of  the  decoy  of  the  Parthenon," 
says  Felton,  from  whose  admirable  lectures  the  foregoing  reliable 
description  is  taken,  "  is  indescribable.  The  impression  it 
makes  is  that  of  a  solemn  and  wondrous  harmony.  Its  aspect 
is  simple,  but  scientific  investigation  has  not  yet  exhausted  its 
beauties  and  refinements." 

"  The  investigations  of  scientific  men,"  continues  President 
Felton,  "reveal  these  facts  in  regard  to  the  structure  of  the 
Parthenon,  namely,  that  the  lines,  which  in  ordinary  architecture 
are  straight,  in  the  Doric  temples  at  Athens  are  delicate  curves. 
The  edges  of  the  steps  and  the  lines  of  the  entablatures  are 
convex  curves,  lyiug  in  vertical  planes,  and  nearly  parallel ;  and 
the  curves  are  conic  sections,  the  middle  of  the  stylobate  rising- 
several  inches  above  the  extremities.  The  external  lines  of  the 
columns  are  curved  also,  forming  a  hj-perbolic  entasis.  The 
axes  of  the  columns  incline  inwards,  so  that  opposite  pairs,  if 
produced  sufficiently  far,  would  meet.  The  spaces  of  the  inter- 
columniations  and  the  size  of  the  capitals  and  columns  vary 
slightly  according  to  their  position.  From  the  usual  point  of 
view  these  variations  and  curves  are  not  perceptible;  but  they 
produce  by  the  combination  the  effect  of  perfect  harmony  and 
regularity." 

TEMPLES   UF  THE   lOXIC   ORDER. 

In  Ionic  temples  there  is  more  variety  in  the  plan  than  in 
that  of  the  Doric  form,  and  almost  always  more  of  rcsthetic 
beauty.  The  temple  of  Theseus,  situated  on  a  knoll  between 
the  Acropolis  and  the  Perseus,  about  twenty  miles  from  Athens, 
was  a  complete  embodiment  of  the  Ionic  order. 


200  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURK 

A  more  unique  and  yet  as  beautiful  example  of  this  order 
in  Greece  is  the  temple  of  Minerva  Polias,  as  an  English  author, 
Mr.  Ferguson,  calls  it ;  or,  as  it  is  called  by  President  Felton, 
the  Erectheum.  Like  the  Parthenon,  it  was  situated  on  the 
Acropolis  of  Athens.  The  form  of  this  singular  structure  was 
oblong,  with  a  portico  of  six  Ionic  columns  at  the  east  end, 
a  kind  of  transept  at  the  west,  a  portico  of  four  columns  on  the 
north,  and  a  portico  of  caryatides  standing  on  a  basement  eight 
feet  high  on  the  south.  At  the  western  end  there  is  a  base- 
ment on  which  there  are  four  Ionic  columns  only  half  detached 
from  the  wall,  and  supporting  a  pediment. 

The  great  temple  at  Tegise  was  of  the  Ionic  order,  and  also 
that  at  Ephesus,  which,  according  to  Pausanias,  surpassed  any 
temple  which  the  Greeks  ever  erected  there  or  anywhere  else. 

The  extreme  length  of  the  Parthenon  was  only  two  hundred 
and  twenty-eight  feet ;  that  of  the  temple  of  Ephesus  four  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five.  The  breadth  of  the  Parthenon  was  one 
hundred  and  twenty-one  feet ;  of  the  temple  of  Ephesus  two 
hundred  and  twenty,  with  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven  col- 
umns, each  sixty  feet  high  ;  whereas  the  Parthenon  counted 
only  forty-six  columns  in  all,  thirty-five  feet  high.  So  that  the 
capacity  of  the  former  was  four  times  as  great  as  that  of  the 
latter,  —  a  magnitude  that  a  temple  of  the  Doric  order  could 
not  be  extended  to  without  appearing  huge,  or,  if  not  so,  at 
least  very  unfit  for  the  exhibition  of  sculpture  and  painting. 

TEMPLES   OF  THE   CORINTHIAN   ORDER. 

Of  the  three  orders  used  by  the  Greeks,  the  Corinthian  is 
thought  to  be  the  most  original.  Their  claim  to  have  invented 
also  the  Doric  and  Ionic  is  not  so  well  founded,  as  pillars  very 
much  like  the  Doric  are  said  now  to  exist  in  Middle  Egypt 
and  Nubia,  cut  out  of  rock,  long  before  they  were  used  by 
the  Greeks  ;  among  the  ruins  at  Persepolis  there  are  columns 
with  Ionic  features ;  at  Roustan  an  architrave  with  a  dental 
cornice  very  similar  to  the  Ionic ;  and  at  Pasargarda^  a  base 
almost  identical  with  that  of  the  Ionic  pillars  at  Samos.      So 


GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  201 

that  whatever  merit  attaches  to  having  invented  the  two  first  of 
the  Grecian  orders  it  belongs  not  to  the  natives  of  that  favored 
country ;  and  although  she  has  but  one  child  (the  Corinthian) 
left  her  whose  parentage  is  undisputed,  it  is  an  offspring  of 
which  she  may  well  be  proud,  and  it  is  fortunate  that  the 
three  progenies  unite  in  such  perfect  harmony. 

The  Greeks,  it  is  said,  invented  the  Corinthian  order  at  a 
time  when,  owing  to  the  decline  of  pure  art,  they  were  no 
longer  capable  of  executing  the  Doric,  with  its  sculpture  and 
painting,  and  when  they  were  tired  of  the  Ionic  ;  and,  if  we  dis- 
pense with  sculpture  and  painting,  there  is  no  doubt  this  is  the 
most  beautiful  and  elegant  of  the  Grecian  orders. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  specimens  of  this  order  is  the 
monument,  as  it  is  called,  of  Lysecrates  at  Athens  ;  another 
is  that  of  the  temple  of  Jupiter  towards  Mount  Hymettus,  and 
still  others  at  Athens,  —  all  differing  most  essentially  from  one 
another,  but  all  disj^laying  that  elegcUice  and  taste  which  the 
Greeks  threw  into  everything  they  did. 

"  The  Corinthian  order,  as  used  by  the  Greeks,  was  a  mere 
decoration,  and  never  considered  worthy  to  be  employed  on 
temples  or  buildings  of  the  highest  importance  ;  and  never  on 
any  building  in  all  Greece  was  it  displayed  in  such  proportions 
or  designed  with  such  care  as  would  justify  a  comparison  with 
the  gi'eat  national  Doric  or  Ionic  order  of  that  age.  The  Co- 
rinthian order  in  itself  is  probably  a  more  beautiful  one  than 
the  Doric ;  and,  if  executed  with  equal  purity  and  taste,  a  Co- 
rinthian portico  or  temple  is  a  more  perfect  and  elegant  work 
than  a  Doric,  provided  neither  of  them  have  sculjDture  or  paint- 
ing to  aid  in  their  general  effect.  But  no  one  could  for  a  mo- 
ment hesitate  between  the  tw^o  in  their  completeness,  and  that 
the  portico  of  the  Parthenon,  as  finished  in  the  age  of  Pericles, 
was  in  every  respect  infinitely  superior  to  any  Corinthian  portico 
ever  erected  in  ancient  days,  or  can  even  now  be  conceived  of 
by  the  most  exuberant  imagination.  But  the  merit  of  supreme 
excellence,  as  compared  with  every  other  work  in  this  depart- 
ment, attaches  not  simply  to  the  jDortico,  but  to  the  entire 
building,  as  the  world  has  ever  acknowledged."    And  thus,  leav- 


202  GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE. 

ing  it  as  a  point  that  admits  of  no  discussion,  let  us  next  briefly 
consider  the  causes  whence  arise  the  impressions  of  grandeur, 
elegance,  and  beauty  made  upon  the  eye  and  the  mind  when  view- 
ing the  noble  monuments  of  ancient  Grecian  art.  But,  that  we 
may  the  more  readily  reach  and  better  comprehend  these  causes, 
it  becomes  necessary  not  only  to  bear  in  mind  that,  while  other 
nations  practised  architecture  apart  from  the  other  arts,  the 
Greeks,  in  their  Doric  temples,  made  a  union  of  the  three,  but 
also  to  notice  certain  peculiarities  connected  with  their  history 
and  affecting  the  practice  of  them;  and  the  first  and  most 
striking  of  these  was  the  general  contempt  of  size,  as  a  mode  of 
expression,  by  which  to  impress  the  beholder. 

Their  largest  temples  were  the  Parthenon  and  the  temple 
of  Jupiter  at  Olympia.  These,  however,  were  very  small  com- 
pared with  those  at  Ephesus  and  Agi-igentum,  but  they  were 
sufficiently  large  for  the  effect  required  to  save  them  from 
insignificance,  placed  as  the  Greeks  always  placed  them  on 
the  highest  spot  available,  so  that  their  situation  alone  gave 
them  an  elevation  which  the  building  had  not  in  itself;  and  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  they  were  only  surrounded  by  low, 
flat-roofed,  one-storied  dwellings,  so  that  the  same  buildings 
which  would  be  low  and  mean  in  a  modern  city  were  lofty  and 
imposing  in  ancient  Greece. 

The  second  peculiarity  to  be  noticed  is  the  little  invention 
showed  by  the  Greeks  in  the  form  of  their  temples.  "  In  itself, 
no  form  can  be  more  commonplace  or  less  artistic  than  that  of 
a  rectangle  twice  the  length  of  its  width.  They  adopted  it, 
however,  in  spite  of  its  inherent  frigidity  and  want  of  expression, 
because  an  unbroken  colonnade  will  always  appear  very  much 
larger  than  one  in  which  the  continuity  is  interrupted,  and 
any  break  or  variety  would  have  required  a  very  considerable 
extension  to  have  insured  the  same  apparent  size ;  and  at  the 
same  time  the  frequent  columns,  and  consequent  intercolumnia- 
tions,  were  calculated  to  give  the  greatest  apparent  height  with 
the  least  possible  dimensions,  and  thus  accomplished  what  was 
wanted  without  the  vulgarity  of  immense  masses,  and  without 
taking  their  sculpture  and  painting  too  far  from  the  eye,  or  con- 


GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE.  203 

trasting  it  with  such  masses  as  would  have  made  it  look  diminu- 
tive unless  executed  on  a  scale  that  would  have  been  not  only 
inconvenient,  but  in  some  cases  almost  impossible." 

This  want,  or  rather  absence,  of  invention  further  exhibits 
itself  in  the  immutability  of  their  architecture  ;  for,  if  we 
observe  it  during  the  period  of  its  greatest  activity,  we  find 
that  "  all  that  was  effected  during  three  centuries,  from  the  time 
of  Cypselus  to  that  of  Alexander  the  Great,  —  if  the  invention 
of  the  Corinthian  order  does  not  fall  within  that  period,  —  was 
to  elongate  slightly  a  column  (the  Doric)  borrowed  from  the 
Egyptians,  and  generally  to  improve  the  form  of  the  mouldings, 
so  as  to  make  them  nearly  perfect  mathematical  forms,  instead 
of  others  traced  merely  by  the  eye,  and  to  improve  the  mason- 
work  and  construction  to  a  considerable  extent."  We  state  this 
merely  as  a  fact,  not  as  evidence  of  deficiency.  The  Greeks 
were  satisfied  with  the  general  form  of  the  members  invented 
in  the  infancy  of  the  art  because  they  had  truth  for  their  basis,  — 
truth  that  required  only  a  little  more  refinement  in  the  mode 
of  expressing  it  to  render  it  complete.  Their  fancy  was  always 
controlled  by  their  judgment. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  that  "  in  the  power  of  in- 
vention and  variety  Greek  architecture  fulls  below  the  Gothic, 
in  boldness  of  effect  it  must  yield  to  the  Egyptian  ;  aesthetically, 
however,  it  has  merits  they  cannot  boast  of,  and  the  combined 
impression  of  elegance,  dignity,  beauty,  and  gTandeur  it  conveys 
has  never  been  equalled  by  anything  that  has  yet  been  done  in 
this  dejDartment  of  art." 

To  investigate  philosophically  all  the  sources  of  such  impres- 
sions would  require  a  space  much  larger  than  coidd  be  afforded 
in  a  work  of  this  description.  Yet  we  cannot  omit  mentioning 
a  few  of  the  most  obvious ;  and  first  and  foremost  among  these 
is  the  extreme  simplicity  of  the  general  form  and  an'angement 
of  the  subject,  —  a  simplicity  that  characterizes  Egyptian 
equall}'  with  Grecian  architecture,  and  is  the  principal  element 
of  grandeur  in  both.  Both  styles  are  characterized  by  lines 
straight  and  uninterrupted  throughout  the  whole  length. 
"  They  are  the  lines  which  bound  the  simplest  of  all  forms,  the 


204  GRECIAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

parallelogram  and  the  pyramid.  Where  the  general  form  has 
no  continuous  commanding  outline  there  is  always  a  deficiency 
of  grandeur."  This  is  exemplified  in  Roman  as  compared  with 
Grecian  architecture,  —  the  principal  element  of  the  former  being 
variety.  There  is  a  sound  philosophical  reason  for  this,  with 
which  the  Greeks  doubtless  were  acquainted.  They  knew  that 
certain  influences  attach  to  certain  lines,  as  to  certain  tones 
in  music  and  certain  colors  in  painting ;  that  straight  lines  excite 
the  eye  and  the  mind  less  than  the  varied ;  and  hence  the 
prevalence  of  simple  and  straight  lines  in  structures  for  reli- 
gious and  devotional  purposes,  where  the  sentiment  intended 
to  be  created  is  that  of  gravity,  solemnity,  and  repose,  —  the 
same  idea  that  governed  them,  as  before  stated,  in  their  sculp- 
tures. 

''  The  sculptures  on  the  pediment  and  frieze  of  the  Parthenon 
did  not  interrupt  the  simplicity  of  the  general  form.  In  fact, 
they  w^ere  absolutely  required  to  relieve  the  structure  from 
monotony  and  baldness,  and  thus  added  to  its  beauty  without 
impairing  its  dignity  and  grandeur.  Had  the  Parthenon  been  of 
any  other  order  than  the  Doric,  it  would  have  been  ruined  by 
what  in  that  case  would  have  been  carrying  to  excess  the 
variety  which  properly  characterizes  the  Corinthian  and  Com- 
posite orders." 

The  second  source  of  the  impression  made  by  Grecian  archi- 
tecture that  we  shall  briefly  notice  is  the  just  proportion  of  the 
whole  to  the  parts  and  of  the  parts  to  the  whole,  —  the  several 
portions  being  so  adjusted  as  to  magnitude  that  one  should  not 
appear  to  overpower  the  other.  It  has  been  remarked  of  the 
portico  of  the  London  University  that  it  is  of  itself  of  un- 
equalled magnificence  and  beauty,  and  of  the  cupola  behind  it 
that  it  is  of  elegant  form,  yet  that  the  latter  is  much  too  large 
for  the  former,  and  seems  to  crush  it,  —  which  would  not  be  the 
case  were  they  proportioned  to  each  other. 

A  third  source  is  the  wondrous  concord  that  exists  between 
one  part  of  Grecian  architecture  and  another,  all  co-operating 
and  combining  to  express  the  same  idea,  unity  amid  variety, 
the  product  of  which  is  harmony,  —  a  harmony  that  has  relation, 


GRECIAN  ARCHITECTURE.  205 

not  onfy  to  proportion  and  magnitude,  but  likewise  to  disposi- 
tion and  decoration. 

Still  another  source  of  the  favorable  impression  made  by 
Grecian  architecture  —  not  by  architecture  only,  but  likewise  by 
sculpture  —  is  that  furnished  by  C.  C.  Perkins,  Esq.,  in  his  very 
learned  and  deeply  interesting  w^ork  on  "  Tuscan  Art,"  namely, 
'*  the  intimate  relation  of  parts  where,"  as  he  admirably  ex- 
presses it,  *'  each  is  the  corollary  and  indispensable  complement 
of  the  other ;  wdien,  the  key-note  being  given,  everything  is  in 
imison  with  it,"  —  as,  for  example,  in  sculpture,  "  if  the  eyes  are 
broad  and  placid,  the  same  character  pervades  the  mouth,  the 
nose,  the  chin,  and  the  forehead,  influences  the  shape  of  the 
skull  and  arrangement  of  the  hair,  and  so  throughout  tlie  entire 
statue." 

There  are  doubtless  other  causes  than  those  now  mentioned 
for  the  impressions  made  on  the  mind  and  the  eye  of  persons 
of  culture  and  taste  when  contemplating  any  of  the  great  pro- 
ductions of  the  ancient  Greeks  in  this  department  of  the  Arts, 
but  we  have  not  space  for  the  consideration  of  them.  Nor, 
perhaps,  is  it  necessary,  writing,  as  we  do,  not  for  the  practical 
artist,  but  for  the  general  student.  We  therefore  here  close 
our  discussion  of  this  very  interesting  portion  of  our  subject, 
trusting  that  the  brief  view  now^  presented  will  be  of  some 
assistance  in  enabling  one  to  discern,  appreciate,  and  enjoy 
whatever  is  worthy  of  admiration  in  the  most  wonderful  form 
of  architecture  yet  invented  by  man. 


ESSAY    XIII. 

ROMAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

IT  can  hardly  be  necessary  for  us  to  state  that  between  Roman 
and  Greek  architecture  there  exists  a  wide  difference,  and 
that  difference  stamps  it  generally  as  inferior.  The  Romans  were 
jDrompted  to  give  up  the  Greek  in  its  purity,  not  because  they 
discovered  in  it  any  defect,  but  chiefly  to  gratify  a  meretricious 
taste.  One  great  variation  is  "in  the  ornamentation  or  enrich- 
ments, which  in  design  and  execution  are  bolder  and  more  fre- 
quent, and  sometimes  carried  to  a  vicious  extent.  The  long 
uninterrupted  entablature,  which  gave  so  much  grandeur  to 
Greek  architecture,  is  in  many  cases  broken  over  the  columns ; 
the  pediments,  also,  and  consequently  the  roofs,  are  steeper. 
The  arch,  too,  w^hich  was  unknown  to  the  Greeks,  although  not 
original  with  the  Romans,  was  brought  into  general  use,  and 
greatly  affected  the  character  of  their  architecture.  At  first  it 
was  subordinate  to  the  column  and  entablature,  but  soon  came 
to  be  regarded  as  a  more  important  principle,  and  was  adopted  as 
a  leading  feature."  The  Romans  claim  to  have  added,  as  already 
stated,  two  more  orders  to  the  three  invented  by  the  Greeks,  — 
the  Tuscan  and  Composite.  By  the  moderns,  however,  they 
are  not  recognized  other  than  as  variations  of  the  Doric  and 
Corinthian. 

In  the  early  stage  of  Greek  architecture,  the  Doric  column 
was  short,  varying  from  four  and  a  half  to  six  and  a  half 
diameters  in  height,  but  soon  got  extended  to  seven.  The 
Tuscan  column  has  never  been  more  or  less  than  seven  times 
the  diameter  of  the  lower  part  of  the  shaft  in  height.  The 
entablature  is.  always  simple,  and  without  any  enrichments,  —  so 
plain,  indeed,  as  to  be  repulsive,  rather  than  attractive.     The 


ROMAN   xVRCHITECTURE.  207 

capital  has  a  square  abacus,  with  small  projecting  fillets  on  the 
upper  edge;  under  the  abacus  is  an  ovolo  and  fillets,  with  a 
neck  below  ;  the  base  consists  of  a  square  plinth  and  a  large 
torus  ;  the  shaft  of  the  column  is  never  fluted.  The  Greek  Doric 
is  sometimes  fluted,  as  in  the  columns  of  the  Parthenon. 

The  Composite  order  is  made  up  of  the  Ionic  grafted  upon 
the  Corinthian,  and  retains  the  same  general  character,  with  the 
exception  of  the  capital,  in  which  the  Ionic  volutes  and  echini  are 
substituted  for  the  Corinthian  caulicoles  and  scrolls.  Sir  Roland 
Friart,  the  early  French  author  whose  quaint  descrij^tion  of  the 
three  Grecian  orders  we  adopted,  characterizes  the  Tuscan  as  "  a 
plain,  massy  rural  pillar,  resembling  some  sturdy,  well-limbed 
laborer,  homely  clad  "  ;  and  of  the  Composite  order  he  says  that 
"  his  name  is  a  brief  of  his  nature,  being  nothing  but  a  medley, 
a  mass  of  precedent  ornaments,  making  a  new  kind  by  stealth ; 
and  though  the  most  richly  tricked,  jet  the  poorest  in  this, 
that  he  is  a  borrower  of  all  his  beauties.  To  know  him  will  be 
easy,  by  the  very  mixture  of  his  ornaments  and  clothing."  No 
one  can  think  our  author  too  severe  upon  what  has  ever  appeared 
an  unnecessary  invention,  if  invention  it  can  be  called.  It 
is  not  easy  to  conceive  that  the  same  taste  which  coidd  be 
pleased  with  the  Tuscan  plainness  —  or,  rather,  baldness  — 
could  also  have  admired  the  meretricious  Composite. 

The  Romans  were  indebted  to  the  Greeks,  not  only  for  their 
pillars,  but  likewise  for  their  porticos,  the  rectangular  form  of 
some  of  their  temples,  and  the  circular  form  of  others ;  they 
adopted  the  arch  from  the  Dorians. 

The  Corinthian  order  was  one  of  the  first  things  that  the 
Romans  borrowed  from  the  Greeks ;  and  it  w^as  well  suited  to 
their  purposes.  "  Its  richness  well  supplied  what  they  wanted  : 
its  pillars  could  be  longer  or  shorter,  as  they  pleased  ;  could  be 
placed  at  any  convenient  distance,  having  no  triglyphs  to  hamper 
them  ;  could  be  adapted  to  round  as  well  as  square  buildings, 
placed  at  angles  or  used  in  interiors  with  equal  facility.  The 
plan,  too,  of  the  Corinthian,  required  little  thought,  and  the 
execution  of  the  order  still  less.  It  had  no  spirals,  like  the 
Gothic,  —  no  sculpture,  no  paintings,  like  the  Doric  ;   and  soon 


208  EOMAN  ARCHITECTURE. 

became  a  favorite  with  the  Romans."  There  are  those  who 
think  the  Roman  Corinthian  an  improvement  on  the  Grecian ; 
and  the  example  of  it,  in  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Status,  has  been 
pronounced  the  most  perfect  thing  in  architecture  which  Rome 
has  produced. 

Although  the  Doric  order  of  the  Greeks  was  not  adapted  to  the 
Romans  they  adopted  it  to  a  certain  extent,  but  degraded  it  by 
attenuation.  Without  their  manipulation,  however,  it  would 
have  amounted  to  very  little  ;  for  they  had  no  painting  and 
no  sculpture  with  which  to  adorn  it.  It  was  the  frame  without 
the  picture,  the  setting  without  the  jewel. 

The  Ionic  order  they  did  not  attempt  till  a  very  late  period. 
It  never  was  an  order  either  of  the  Dorians  or  the  Etruscans ; 
and  there  is  no  evidence  that  any  specimen  of  it  existed  in  Italy 
anterior  to  Roman  greatness. 

The  Romans,  when  boiTowing  their  orders  from  the  Greeks, 
adopted  the  peristyle  form  of  their  temples.  There  is  not, 
however,  in  Rome,  a  single  instance  of  a  peristyle  temple. 
Generally  it  is  a  mere  cell,  with  an  attached  portico.  Some- 
times the  portico  is  continued  in  three-quarter  columns  attached 
to  the  side  of  the  cell,  and  occasionally  the  colonnade  is  carried 
round  the  sides  ;  but  then  the  length  of  the  side  ranges  is  little 
more  than  that  of  the  front,  and  consequently  the  elegant  pro- 
portion of  the  Greek  colonnade,  gained  by  the  contrasted  length, 
is  lost.  There  is  one  temple  in  Rome  that  has  been  restored  by 
architects  as  a  perfect  peristyle,  three  hundred  and  sixty-two  by 
one  hundred  and  seventy-se\''en  feet ;  but  there  is  no  reliance  to 
be  placed  on  the  truth  of  the  restoration,  as  no  single  base  of  a 
column  has  been  found  in  place. 

•  Besides  this  very  doubtful  one,  all  the  temples  of  Rome  are 
of  insignificant  dimensions,  —  that  of  Jupiter  Status  being  only 
one  hundred  and  forty  by  ninety-two  feet ;  Jupiter  Tonans, 
eighty-five  by  sixty-seven ;  Mars  Ultor,  one  hundred  and  twelve 
by  one  hundred  and  twenty  ;  and  all  the  others  much  less  than 
these  much-vaunted  specimens.  She  was  surpassed  in  this 
respect  by  her  provinces.  In  Syria,  —  which  in  the  time  of 
the    Csesars   w\as   to    Rome    what    Ionia   was    to    Greece,    her 


ROMAN   ARCHITECTURE.  209 

richest  and  most  architectural  province,  —  there  are  found  re- 
mains of  temples  that  throw  those  of  the  Capitol  into  the 
shade.  At  Baalbec  tliere  are  tlie  remains  of  two  peristyle 
temples,  that  when  complete,  with  their  courts  and  accompani- 
ments, must  have  been  unmatched  by  anything  in  the  Roman 
world. 

Of  all  the  temples  of  the  Romans,  the  Pantheon,  if  it  was  a 
temple,  is  conceded  to  have  been  by  far  the  most  typical  and 
original,  and  as  regards  the  interior  unmatched  in  the  ancient 
world  for  invention.  "  There  is  a  simplicity  about  its  propor- 
tions, the  height  being  equal  to  the  width,  lighted  by  one 
circular  opening  in  the  roof,  which,  joined  to  its  large  dimensions, 
gave  it  a  character  of  grandeur  which  redeems  that  clumsiness 
in  detail  which  would  spoil  a  work  less  grand  and  simple  in 
conception." 

The  external  form  of  the  Pantheon  is  not  beautiful.  To 
improve  the  original  design,  a  portico  beautiful  in  itself  was 
added ;  but  this,  although  Etruscan  in  arrangement,  like  the 
building  itself,  being  Greek  in  detail,  is  so  incongruous  that 
it  has  destroyed  any  beauty  that  each  possessed  separately.  In 
fact,  not  one  line  or  one  detail  in  the  portico  agrees  with  an}^- 
thing  in  the  circular  part  of  the  temple ;  but  it  is  crushed  by 
its  mass,  while  the  crude  mass  of  the  circular  part  is  brought 
out  and  made  obtrusive  by  the  more  ornate  forms  of  tht 
portico. 

This  w\as  not  the  art  of  the  Greeks.  With  them  all  was 
symmetrical  and  harmonious.  Both  borrowed  and  united  ;  but 
the  difference  between  the  two  was  this,  that  "the  Greeks 
selected  congenial  materials;  the  Romans  frequently  incongruous, 
and  never  could  conceal  the  joint." 

Neither  the  religious  nor  the  artistic  feelings  of  the  Romans 
induced  them  to  erect  temples  as  magnificent  as  those  of 
Eg}'pt,  or  as  beautiful  as  those  of  Greece  ;  and  yet  their  capital 
was  adorned  with  buildings  in  their  kind  as  wonderfid  as  any 
the  world  has  seen,  and  not  less  characteristic  of  the  passions 
and  habits  of  the  people ;  and  foremost  among  them  stands  the 
Coliseum,  — "  the  type  of  the  Roman  style,  containing  all  its 
14 


210  EOMAN   ARCHITECTURE. 

beauties  and  all  its  defects.  In  size  and  splendor  it  is  worthy 
of  the  Roman  Empire,  and  its  purpose  rendered  it  a  favorite 
and  principal  building  in  that  great  city  in  the  days  of  its 
glory ;  and  its  ruins  even  now  are  as  great  as  the  Roman  name 
and  Roman  greatness,  though  few  buildings  are  by  competent 
judges  considered  to  be  more  tasteless  in  design  or  more  faulty 
in  detail." 

"  Constructively  the  building  consists  of  a  series  of  Etruscan 
arches  enclosed  in  a  network  of  Grecian  pillars,  with  entabla- 
tures utterly  inappropriate  and  used  merely  as  decorations, 
and  totally  distinct  from  the  construction.  The  external  form 
followed  that  of  the  arena,  wdiich  was  by  no  means  unfavor- 
able to  architectural  effect;  had  the  decorations,  pillars,  and 
pilasters  been  omitted,  and  merely  the  bold  arches  risen  tier 
above  tier,  and  the  whole  been  crowned  with  a  cornice  pro- 
portioned to  the  height  of  the  whole  edifice,  it  might  have 
been  a  far  nobler  building.  Its  materials  have  built  half  of 
the  palaces  of  Rome  ;  its  principles  are  the  foundation  of  the 
modern  school  of  Italian  architecture,  and  half  the  palace 
fagades  of  modern  Italy  are  mere  variations  of  the  incongruous 
architecture  of  its  exterior." 

What  is  most  admired  in  all  Roman  buildings  is  the  mass 
and  the  constructive  magnificence.  In  those  which  more 
directly  belong  to  architecture,  it  is  not  only  stated,  but  by 
competent  judges  conceded,  that  the  eftect  is  oftener  spoiled  than 
aided  by  the  introduction  of  incongruous  ornament,  the  jux- 
taposition of  inappropriate  parts,  and  the  junction  of  styles 
directly  opposed  to  each  other,  —  the  natural  result  of  copying 
and  borrowing  blindfold  instead  of  inventing.  In  Greece  we 
contemplate  a  work  of  art  with  the  unmitigated  satisfaction  we 
derive  from  studying  a  work  of  nature.  ''  In  Rome,  however, 
there  is  no  one  building  of  Roman  invention,  and  no  work  of 
sculpture  even,  save  the  statues  of  some  of  their  great  men  (in 
which  little  invention  was  demanded),  on  which  we  can  dwell 
with  unqualified  delight,  in  which  some  improvement  cannot  be 
suggested ;  in  short,  none  the  half  of  whose  beauties  are  not 
derived  from  the  hallowing  touch  of  time,  and  that  halo  which 


ROMAN   ARCHITECTURE.  211 

association  has  spread  around  what  otherwise  would  not  attract, 
and  might,  porha2)S,  often  disgust." 

All  this  is  doubtless  true,  but  still  it  is  impossible  to  over- 
rate the  treasures  there  accumulated,  for  "  hers  was  the  vast 
reservoir  into  which  was  poured  all  that  belonged  to  preceding 
nations,  and  the  furnace  in  which  all  the  amalgam  of  different 
metals  was  melted,  and  Europe  has  since  been  fashioning  to  her 
use.  There  is  nothing  in  more  ancient  times  which  may  not 
be  traced  into  Kome ;  nothing  in  more  modern  times  that  may 
not  be  traced  out  of  her.  She  is  the  concluding  scene  of  an 
old,  the  opening  one  of  modern  civilization.  She  brought 
together  en  masse  all  the  arts  of  the  ancient  world ;  and  after 
mixing  them  together,  she  delivered  them  to  us  to  make  what 
use  we  could  of  them."  How^  far,  and  in  what  way,  succeeding 
generations  have  been  benefited  by  the  legacy  it  does  not  fall 
within  our  province  to  inquire ;  our  endeavor  has  been  to  illus- 
trate the  principles,  not  simply  to  furnish  a  history,  of  art. 


ESSAY    XIY. 

GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE. 

aOTHIC  is  the  term  employed  to  designate  a  class  of  archi- 
tecture which  flourished  not  only  in  England,  but  also  in  a 
large  portion  of  Northern  Europe,  from  the  latter  part  of  the 
twelfth  century  until  the  revival  of  the  classic  orders  (the 
Greek  and  Roman)  in  the  sixteenth. 

How  the  term  came  to  be  applied  to  a  style  of  architecture 
so  beautiful  in  the  mass,  so  delicate  and  graceful  in  all  its 
details,  and  so  promotive  of  a  truly  religious  feeling  and  senti- 
ment, we  are  unable  to  discover.  It  is  said  to  have  been  applied 
at  first  by  way  of  reproach  by  some  bigoted  admirer  of  the 
classic  orders  ;  but,  in  view  of  its  inappropriateness,  it  is  difficult 
to  conceive  why  the  admirers  of  this  style  should  have  accepted 
and  continued  to  use  it. 

The  origin  of  Gothic  architecture  has  given  rise  to  many  very 
ingenious  speculations.  There  are  those  who  maintain  that  the 
st^de  has  been  copied  directly  from  nature ;  that  the  pointed 
arches  and  groins  of  the  vaults  were  imitated  from  the  over- 
arching branches  of  trees,  and  that  the  stems,  or  trunks,  of  the 
avenue  were  the  originals  of  the  pillars  of  the  Gothic  aisles. 
Others  have  maintained  that  the  invention  of  the  pointed  arch 
was  a  mere  accident,  arising  from  this  form  having  been  observed 
in  the  interlacing  of  the  circular  arches  of  the  Norman  arcade. 
It  has  also  been  stated  that  the  style  was  imported  from  the 
East,  and  that  the  mediaeval  architects  had  little  to  do  with  it. 

More  careful  study,  however,  has  dispelled  these  fanciful  ideas, 
and  settled  the  origin  and  progress  of  Gothic  architecture  on 
historical  as  well  as  on  internal  8^'idence. 

To  trace  Gothic  architecture  up  to  its  primary  elements,  we 


GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE.  213 

should  have  to  go  far  hack  in  the  world's  history.  As  we  hnve 
neither  space  nor  inclination  for  an  extended  and  detailed  ex- 
amination of  this  matter,  suffice  it  brieHy  to  remark,  that  its 
origin  mav  be  traced  by  slow  degrees  from  the  corruptions  intro- 
duced by  the  Romans  into  Grecian  architecture,  and  especially 
from  the  prevailing  use  of  the  arch. 

Some  maintain  that  there  are  only  two  styles  of  architecture 
of  which  we  have  any  knowledge,  namely,  Greek  and  Gothic  ; 
that  these  are  the  two  typical  styles,  and  that  in  them  are  con- 
tained all  the  elements  of  which  the  rest  are  composed.  * 

This  is,  no  doubt,  to  some  extent  true,  just  as  it  is  also  true 
that  all  things  in  nature  are  derived  from  a  few  primary 
elements.  But  as  there  are  many  varieties  in  nature,  so  there 
are  many  developments  of  the  two  typical  forms  of  architecture, 
—  all  of  which  deserve  to  be  classed  as  styles. 

Greek  architecture  is  the  type  of  the  trabeated  style,  that  is, 
the  style  whose  principal  feature  is  the  straight  lintel.  Gothic 
is  the  tj-po  of  the  arcuated  style,  that  is,  the  style  in  which  the 
voids  are  spanned  by  arches.  Of  these  typical  forms  there  are 
many  varieties. 

Roman  architecture,  with  its  Greek  form  of  decoration  and 
Gothic  form  of  construction,  —  that  is,  having  its  exterior 
ornamented  with  columns  crowned  by  straight  architraves  and 
cornices,  and  its  interior  constructed  with  arches  and  vaults,  — 
was  a  transition  form  between  them. 

In  principles  and  essential  characteristics,  then,  Gothic  archi- 
tecture is  the  very  opposite  of  Grecian,  and  also  of  the  Roman, 
as  ftxr  as  regards  the  exterior  of  the  latter. 

As  distinguished  from  both  Grecian  and  Roman,  the  leading 
characteristic  of  Gothic  architecture  is  the  pointed  arch,  as  seen 
in  the  windows  and  doorways,  sometimes  very  acute,  at  other 
times  more  obtuse. 

The  pillars  are  made  up  generally  of  a  cluster  of  smaller 
columns,  variously  combined,  and  of  different  thickness ;  in 
which  they  differ  from  the  Greek  and  Roman  column,  which  is 
only  a  single  shaft. 

In  the   Gothic,    the    mouldings,    coniices,   and   capitals    are 


214  GOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE. 

totally  different  from  the  classical,  or  Greek  and  Roman,  but  so 
various  and  complicated  as  to  defy  description,  and  to  be  ren- 
dered intelligible  only  by  inspection  or  by  very  expensive  draw- 
ings. 

Entablatures,  which  form  so  important  a  part  in  Greek  and 
Roman  architecture,  entirely  disappear  in  the  Gothic,  as  the 
universal  tendency  is  to  the  predominance  and  prolongation  of 
vertical  lines,  —  for  instance,  in  the  interior,  by  continuing  the 
shafts  in  the  mouldings  of  the  arch ;  and  on  the  exterior,  by  the 
spires,*and  by  employing  buttresses  with  strong  projection,  which 
shoot  upwards  through  the  cornice  and  the  parapets,  and  termi- 
nate in  pinnacles. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  Grecian  and  Roman  architecture  the 
tendency  is  to  the  predominance  and  prolongation  of  horizontal 
lines. 

In  the  Gothic,  the  pitch  of  the  roof  is  very  acute,  in  corre- 
spondence with  the  lancet  form  of  the  windows  and  doors ;  in 
the  Greek,  very  obtuse,  —  more  so  than  in  the  Roman. 

In  the  Gothic,  the  openings  are  the  greatest  part  of  the 
walls,  and  the  other  part  is  subordinate.  In  the  Greek  and 
Roman,  the  reverse  is  the  case. 

In  the  Gothic,  the  elements  of  building  are  all  slender, 
detached,  repeated,  and  multiplied ;  they  assume  forms  imply- 
ing flexion  and  ramification.  In  the  Grecian  and  Roman  they 
are  larger,  fewer,  and  compact,  implying  solidity,  fixedness, 
durability,  and  support. 

Grecian  architecture  is  characterized  by  simplicity;  Gothic, 
by  variety.  The  former  appears  to  most  advantage  when  viewed 
near ;  the  latter  when  viewed  at  a  distance,  and  the  detail  is 
lost  in  the  mass. 

There  is  more  fixedness  in  classic  than  in  Gothic  archi- 
tecture ;  many  of  the  general  forms  and  features  of  the  latter 
wxre  continually  undergoing  important  changes  in  Europe, 
which  resulted  in  three  different  styles  differently  designated  in 
different  countries. 

In  Great  Britain  the  first  style  was  called  the  Early  English ; 
the  second,  the  Decorated  ;  the  third  and  last,  the  Perpendicular. 


GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE.  215 

In  France,  this  style  received  the  name  of  the  flamboyant, 
from  the  flame-Hke  waving  of  its  tracery. 

Tlie  Early  English,  the  first  of  the  pointed  styles,  succeeded 
the  Norman  towards  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  gi-adu- 
ally  merged  into  the  Decorated  at  the  end  of  the  thirteenth, 
and  this  into  the  Perpendicular  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
fourteenth  century  ;  the  whole  being  superseded  by  the  re- 
newed classic  about  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

It  would  be  out  of  place  in  a  work  like  this  to  attempt  to 
give  a  description  of  all  the  details  of  these  several  styles,  as 
they  could  not  be  understood  by  any  one  without  an  extended 
and  very  expensive  series  of  drawings  and  diagrams,  —  and 
certainly  not  remembered,  however  well  described,  —  and  be- 
sides they  each  have  in  common  the  same  general  characteristic, 
pointed  out  in  our  pai-allel  between  classic  and  Gothic  archi- 
tecture. The  framework  is  the  same  ;  the  difference  is  the  varia- 
tion only  of  certain  parts.  Suffice  it,  therefore,  to  say,  that  the  dis- 
tinctive mark  that  divides  one  style  from  another  is  to  be  found 
chiefly  in  the  windows,  —  as  may  be  seen  in  our  illustration,  — 
not  in  the  general  form  or  outline  of  the  window,  so  much  as 
in  the  size  and  the  interior  aiTangement,  and  likewise  in  the 
amount  and  nature  of  the  ornament  scattered  over  the  entire 
building. 

THE  EAKLY  EXGLISR. 

The  windows  of  this  style  are  long  and  narrow  and  with- 
out ornament ;  simplicity  being  its  chief  characteristic,  particu- 
larly of  th«  early  stages  of  it.  The  windows  of  this  style  are 
either  single  or  in  combination  of  two,  three,  five,  or  seven,  — 
the  space  between  them  being  very  small ;  occasionally  they  are 
surmounted  by  a  large  arch  embracing  the  whole  group,  and  the 
space  between  the  arch  and  the  tops  of  the  windows  is  often 
pierced,  in  the  later  stages  of  the  style,  w^ith  what  are  termed 
trefoils  or  quatrcfoils,  —  an  aperture  in  the  form  of  three  or 
four  leaves  united,  —  thus  forming  the  commencement  of 
tracerv. 


216  GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE. 


THE  DECORATED   STYLE. 


This  style  exhibits  the  most  perfect  development  of  Gothic 
architecture.  The  Early  English  was  not  sufficiently  matured, 
and  the  Perpendiculai;  marked  its  decline.  The  term  employed 
to  designate  this  style  suggests  its  character  as  differing  from 
the  Early  English.  It  is  distinguished  by  its  large  windows, 
divided  by  mullions  (small  shafts  running  from  the  side  to 
the  bottom,  or  base,  of  the  arch),  and  tracery  either  of  flow- 
ing lines  or  forming  circles  and  other  geometrical  figures. 
The  rose  circular  window  belongs  to  this  style,  and  the  square- 
headed  window  is  very  common.  The  doorwaj'S  are  also  large 
and  richly  ornamented.  A  few  of  the  doorways  are  double,  but 
this  is  not  common  in  England.  A  weather-moulding,  or  drip- 
stone, is  generally  used  over  the  heads  of  windows  and  niches  in 
this  style,  the  ends  of  which  are  supported  on  corbel-heads,  or 
bosses  of  foliage. 

The  pillars  in  this  style  were  either  clustered  shafts  or 
moulded,  and  the  capitals  were  sometimes  enriched  with  foliage. 

The  groined  roofs  of  this  style  are  distinguished  from  the 
Early  English  by  an  additional  number  of  ribs,  and  by  the 
foliage  on  the  bosses,  copied  from  nature, — vine,  maple,  and 
oak  leaves,  and  the  acorn. 

In  this  style  there  are  found  sculptured  human  figures,  re- 
marka))lo  for  the  ease  and  chasteness  of  the  attitudes,  and  the 
free  and  graceful  folds  of  the  draperies.  It  is  said  that  few 
figures  can  surpass  in  simplicity  and  beauty  the  effigy  of  Queen 
Ellinor  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

The  general  appearance  of  decorated  buildings,  is  at  once 
simple  and  magnificent,  —  simple  from  the  small  number  of 
parts,  and  magnificent  from  the  size  of  the  windows  and  the 
easy  flow  of  the  lines  of  tracery.  In  the  interior  of  the  building 
there  is  great  breadth,  ornament  is  nowhere  spared,  and  the  roof- 
ing, from  the  increased  richness  of  the  groining,  becomes  an  object 
of  attention ;  but  amid  all  this  richness,  ornament,  and  variety 
there  is  a  simplicity  which  is  pleasing.  Were  it  not  so,  there 
would  be   no   breadth.      York   Cathedral  is  one  of  the  finest 


WINDOWS 

Characterizing  the  three  Styles  of  Gothic  Architecture. 


PERPENDICULAR 


EARLY  ENGLISH. 


DECORATED. 


tairiYBRSITT 


•4 


crpo 


'^1^ 


GOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE.  217 

examples  of  the  Decorated  style.  This  style  was  first  intro- 
duced ill  the  time  of  Edward  I.,  and  was  in  general  use  in  the 
time  of  Edward  III. 


THE   PERPENDICULAR  STYLE. 

The  broad  distinction  of  this  style,  as  seen  in  the  drawing, 
lies  in  the  form  of  the  tracery  in  the  head  of  the  windows.  It 
is  no  longer  filled  with  the  graceful  flowing  lines  of  the  decorated 
tracery,  but  their  place  is  supplied  by  the  rigid  lines  of  the 
mullioiis,  which  are  carried  through  the  architrave  mouldings. 
The  spaces  between  being  frequently  divided  and  subdivided  by 
similar  perpendicular  lines,  so  that  perpendicularity  is  so  clearly 
the  characteristic  of  these  windows  that  no  other  word  could 
have  been  found  which  would  at  once  so  wtII  express  the  pre- 
dominating feature. 

The  same  characteristic  prevails  throughout  the  building, 
the  whole  flat  surface  being  covered  with  panelling  in  which 
the  perpendicular  line  clearly  predominates. 

Another  peculiarity  of  this  style  is  the  constant  use  of 
transoms  (a  bar  crossing  the  mullions  of  the  window  at  right 
angles),  and  in  large  windows  they  are  occasionally  repeated 
several  times.  Still  another  characteristic  is  the  square  ar- 
rangement of  the  mouldings  over  the  lancet-formed  doorways, 
creating  a  spandrel  on  each  side  above  the  arch,  usually  orna- 
mented with  traceiy,  foliage,  and  a  shield. 

The  roofs  of  this  style  are  often  made  ornamental,  and  have 
the  whole  of  the  framing  exposed  to  view.  ]Many  of  them  are 
of  high  pitch,  and  have  a  very  magnificent  effect,  the  spaces  be- 
tween the  timbers  in  the  interior  being  filled  with  tracery,  and 
the  beams  arched  and  moulded  in  various  ways,  and  sometimes 
pendants,  figures  of  angels,  and  other  carving-s,  are  introduced. 

In  the  fifteenth  century  the  Perpendicular  was  the  style  for 
every  kind  of  building, — churches,  houses,  castles,  barns,  and 
cottages  ;  many  of  the  Universities  at  Oxford  are  of  this  style 
of  architecture. 

In  France,  and  particularly  in  Normandy,  Gothic  architecture 


218  GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE. 

was  developed  by  nearly  the  same  steps  as  in  England ;  but  in 
other  parts  of  the  continent  it  passed  more  rapidly  into  the 
Decorated  style,  without  undergoing  any  veiy  clearly  marked 
intermediate  change 

TUDOR  STYLE   OF  ARCHITECTURE. 

"Tudor"  is  the  term  employed  sometimes  to  designate  the 
later  Perpendicular  style,  and  the  mixed  style  which  sprang  up 
on  the  decline  of  pure  Gothic. 

As  in  the  Gothic  proper,  so  in  the  history  of  the  process  of 
this  style  there  were  three  eras  :  the  Tudor  proper  of  the  time 
of  Henry  VII. ;  the  perfected  Tudor  of  the  reign  of  Henry 
VIII.  ;  and  that  called  Elizabethan,  after  the  English  queen  of 
that  name,  because  prevalent  in  her  reign. 

The  Tudor  stjde,  however,  did  not  originate  with  the  ftimily 
of  that  name,  but  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  first  intro- 
duced it  into  France  and  the  Netherlands  about  the  year  1450, 
and  which,  spreading  into  England,  was  adopted  by  the  Tudor 
family,  and  took  their  name. 

This  style  was  characterized  by  large  halls  with  elevated 
ceilings,  and  exterior  breadth  and  elevation  of  the  general 
design  to  harmonize  with  them.  It  had  small  octagonal  towers 
capped  with  cupolas  in  the  shape  of  a  bulb  or  mitred  crown, 
underneath  which  was  a  fringe  of  rich  crockets.  Between  these 
towers  there  arose  tall  turrets,  finished  pinnacle  spires,  tipj)ed 
with  golden  vanes,  —  a  feature  of  the  pointed  Gothic ;  and 
added  to  these  arrangements  was  that  useful  and  charming- 
addition  so  universally  adopted  in  our  day,  the  bay-window. 

In  1509,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIIL,  the  gateway,  so  im- 
portant a  feature  in  castellated  architecture,  became  lofty,  and 
was  crowned  with  the  broad,  semi-elliptical,  obtuse-pointed  arch. 

The  greater  breath  and  height  given  to  the  doorways  required 
a  corresponding  height  and  breadth  of  windows,  to  relieve 
which  they  were  divided  by  transoms  (cross-bars),  while  a  minia- 
ture battlement  was  added  to  the  exterior.  As  an  additional 
ornament  to  the  summit  of  the  wall,  the  chimneys  were  clustered 


GOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE.  219 

and  raised  to  the  height  of  the  towers,  with  an  embattled 
cornice ;  and  a  notched  parapet,  still  a  fixvorite  as  a  cornice,  was 
added  to  the  entire  line  of  the  wall. 

The  third  era  of  the  style  began  when,  after  the  reign 
of  Henry  VIII.,  the  prejudice  which  had  excluded  Italian 
artists  began  to  die  out.  Early  in  this  period  the  Dutch 
painter  Holbein  came  to  England.  His  Italian  associations 
and  culture  led  him  to  throw  his  influence  in  favor  of  classic 
and  against  Gothic  architecture.  Being  only  a  painter,  that 
influence  was  not  great ;  still  it  gave  a  tendency  to  the  i)ublic 
taste  in  that  direction,  which  tendency  was  increased  by  the 
return  about  this  time  from  Italy  of  an  English  architect,  Inigo 
Jones,  who,  having  brought  home  from  that  country,  the  very 
year  of  its  publication,  Palladio's  new  treatise  on  Architecture, 
contributed  largeh^,  till  his  death  in  1562,  to  foster  the  taste  for 
that  mingled  Grecian,  Roman,  Gothic,  and  Tudor  style  which 
prevailed  in  England  from  about  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  to 
near  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  which  afterwards 
received  the  name  of 

THE   ELIZABETHAN  STYLE   OF  ARCHITECTURE. 

Since  Henry  VIIL's  time,  as  we  have  seen,  the  castles 
newly  erected  had  been  furnished  with  halls,  surmounted  with 
lofty  ceilings,  with  high-pitched  rafters  of  unpainted  oak  and 
chestnut,  supported  by  brackets ;  at  the  upper  end  some  large 
hexagonal  bay-windows  reached  from  the  floor  to  the  ceilings, 
and  opened  into  the  court  below,  w^iile  on  the  sides  of  the  hall 
were  large  galleries  lined  with  oak,  having  their  walls  adorned 
with  carved  tablets,  scrolls,  and  escutcheons,  and  crowned  with 
wide  cornices  ornamented  with  oak  carvings  in  high-relief,  and 
interspersed  with  grotesque  figures.  These  crude  and  grotesque 
figures  were  modified  in  the  Elizabethan  style  by  the  inti-oduc- 
tion  of  classic  forms,  and  by  the  change  of  curved  and  scroll 
panels  into  the  straight  and  angular  forms  of  rectangles  and 
triangles,  —  thus  giving  a  mongrel  aspect  to  the  whole  that  fiiils 
to  satisfy  the  admirers  either  of  the  Gothic  or  the  classic. 


220  GOTHIC  AECHITECTURE. 

LOUIS   THE   FOUETEENTH   STYLE  OF  ARCHITECTURE. 

This,  like  the  Elizabethan,  is  a  mixed  style  of  architecture, 
and  is  best  illustrated  in  the  now  existing  Palace  at  Versailles. 
It  may  also,  like  that,  be  regarded  as  a  transition  to  the  classic. 

It  introduced  a  basement  with  circular  arches  and  square 
pilasters,  while  the  main  story  above  had  Roman  porticos,  with 
Grecian  triangular  and  Roman  circular  pediments  and  also 
Roman  corridors.  To  these  decided  Roman  features,  with  rich 
Ionic  and  Corinthian  columns,  was  added  the  scroll-work  of  the 
Tudor,  sometimes  also  the  pinnacles  of  the  Gothic ;  and  above 
all,  as  a  crowning  feature,  the  roof  of  double  slope,  called 
Mansard  after  a  French  architect  of  that  name,  the  inventor, 
whose  graceful  curves  are  now  so  frequently  repeated  in  our 
structures  both  public  and  private. 

While  these  changes  were  going  on  in  Western  Europe,  Italy 
retained  the  features  of  the  Roman  arcade  style,  specimens  of 
which  may  be  seen  in  the  Palace  of  the  Grand  Duke  at 
Florence,  and  the  Farnese  Palace  at  Rome,  chiefly  the  work  of 
Michael  Angelo.  Had  it  fallen  within  the  limits  of  our  plan, 
it  would  have  been  interesting  to  have  briefly  examined  the 
architectural  works  of  Italy  of  that  period,  and  especially  those 
connected  with  the  name  of  one  so  renowned  as  Michael  Angelo. 
Nor  would  it  have  afl'orded  us  less  pleasure  to  have  added  some- 
thing to  our  very  limited  view  of  Gothic  architecture  in  relation 
to  its  peculiar  adaptedness  for  religious,  educational,  and  pri- 
vate, and  consequently  its  inappropriateness'  for  commercial 
purposes  ;  but  we  must  leave  the  discussion  of  that  subject  to 
others,  and  close  this  essay  with  a  few  remarks  on 

MODERN   ARCHITECTURE. 

And  those  not  in  disparagement  of  it,  for  although  it  develops 
no  new  principle,  it  has  made  and  is  constantly  making  new 
combinations,  often  very  beautiful,  exhibiting  great  powers  of 
invention  and  the  highest  festhetic  taste.  Especially  is  this  to 
be  remarked  of  our  domestic  architecture,  as  contrasted  with 
which  all  that  we  know  upon  the  subject  will  not  permit  us  for 


GOTHIC   ARCHITECTURE.  221 

a  moment  to  suppose  that  what  the  ancients  did  in  this  depart- 
ment will  bear  any  comparison;  and  in  support  of  this  opinion 
we  have  only  to  point  to  the  many  palatial  residences  everywhere 
to  be  seen  in  both  town  and  country,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
magnificent  stores  and  warehouses  constantly  erected  in  our 
large  cities. 

In  our  public  buildings  we  have  not  always  been  successful. 
Not  unfrequently  are  they  marked  by  incongruity  and  incom- 
pleteness ;  or,  if  the  plans  of  the  architects  are  good,  they  are 
not  unfrequently  ruined  by  an  injudicious  selection  of  the 
site  the  building  is  to  occupy,  —  a  point,  we  fear,  but  too  little 
considered  in  modern  architectural  arrangements ;  or,  if  not 
lost  sight  of  by  the  architect,  yet  entirely  neglected,  or  thought 
of  no  importance  whatever,  by  his  employer. 

Old  Mr.  West  (Sir  Benjamin  West)  used  to  say  that  after  he 
had  done  what  color  and  the  brush  could  do  for  his  painting,  it 
was  not  finished  until  he  could  find  a  proper  place  and  light  in 
which  to  exhibit  it. 

A  building  may  appear  ever  so  perfect  on  paper,  yet,  if  it  is 
not  so  located  as  to  present  to  the  eye  during  some  part  of  the 
day,  and  at  the  usual  distance  at  which  we  view  it,  the  same 
lines  and  lights  and  shadows  as  those  on  the  architectural  plan, 
disappointment  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  must  follow,  for  we 
do  not  get  that  which  we  promised  ourselves. 

The  selection  of  a  site  for  their  public  edifices  was  a  point 
most  studiously  considered  by  the  Greeks ;  and  the  height  of 
the  surrounding  buildings  rarely,  if  ever,  exceeded  a  single 
story.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  much  of  the  admiration 
with  which  their  great  works  were  viewed  was  owing  to  the 
judicious  manner  in  which  they  w^ere  located. 

In  modern  times  we  sometimes  hear  of  a  State  House  or 
some  great  public  building  erected  "  in  exact  imitation  of  the 
Parthenon."  The  Parthenon  was  the  crowning  glory  of  a  lofty 
hill,  like  all  the  public  edifices  of  ancient  Greece,  overtopping 
all  its  surroundings.  Its  twin  brother  —  that  which  was  to 
astonish  the  world  I)}'  the  towering  majesty  of  its  form  and  the 
beauty  of  its  proportions  —  occupies  a  small  low  lot  in  a  narrow^ 


222  GOTHIC   AECHITECTURE. 

and  confined  street  of  a  city,  its  background  being,  perhaps, 
a  seven-storied  gTOcery,  and  the  nearest  view  of  the  horizon 
obtained  by  a  look  up  the  chimney.  "The  Legislative  Com- 
mittee on  Buildings  "  (to  whom  such  things  are  generally  in- 
trusted) were  doubtless  delighted  when  it  was  completed,  and 
astonished  at  their  imagined  success  ;  but  the  architect  was  dis- 
appointed, and  all  persons  of  taste,  as  they  passed,  laughed,  — 
and  wh}^  ?  It  was  the  eagle,  "  near  neighbor  to  the  sun,"  come 
down  to  be  companion  to  the  goose. 

A  gentleman  of  means  and  taste  has  somewhere  seen  a 
beautiful  dwelling-house,  and  designs  to  have  one  erected 
"  exactly  hke  it."  He  gets  a  drawing  and  building-plan  of  the 
same  from  a  competent  architect,  but  says  nothing  of  the  form 
of  the  ground  on  which  it  is  to  be  located,  w^hether  on  a  hill  or 
in  a  valley,  in  the  city  or  the  country ;  nor  could  he,  for  he  has 
come  to  no  decision  regarding  it.  The  building,  however,  goes 
up  somewhere,  but  it  does  not  realize  the  beauty  of  the 
original,  —  and  why  1  It  is  either  placed  too  high  or  too  low, 
too  far  off  or  too  near  the  eye,  and  the  general  contour,  or 
outline,  is  very  different  from  that  of  the  elevation  by  the 
architect ;  or  it  does  not  face  the  same  point  of  the  comj)ass 
that  the  original  did,  —  that  looking  to  the  south,  this  to  the 
north,  —  and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  the  lights  and  shadows 
which  brought  out  and  gave  so  much  breadth,  beauty,  and 
effect  to  the  cornices  and  projecting  ornaments  of  the  first  are 
wanting  in  the  last,  and  the  whole  is  flat,  unmeaning,  and 
insipid. 

These  mistakes  in  architectural  arrangements  are  constantly 
occurring,  and  as  they  are  frequent  causes  of  disappointment 
they  cannot  be  overstated.  With  a  little  foresight  the  evil 
might  be  avoided.  To  know  the  true  nature  of  a  disease  is 
the  first  step  towards  the  cure  of  it.  To  fully  appreciate  and 
enjoy  all  that  is  worthy  of  admiration  in  art,  one  should  not 
only  be  acquainted  with  the  sources  of  its  beauties,  but  likewise 
know  the  causes  of  its  real  and  apparent  defects. 


CONCLUSION. 


IX  accordance  with  what  was  stated  in  our  Preface,  we  have 
endeavored  in  the  preceding  pages  to  bring  within  the  reach 
of  the  common  intellect  a  general  knowledge  of  those  principles 
of  truth  and  beauty  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  all  the  elegant 
arts. 

Of  the  imperfect  manner  in  which  our  task  has  been  per- 
formed we  certainly  are  not  unconscious.  Of  the  value  of  a 
work,  however,  in  which  the  contemplated  design  shall  have 
been  successfully  carried  out,  we  apprehend  there  can  be  but 
little  difference  of  opinion,  in  view  of  the  little  knowledge  there 
is  in  this  country,  and,  we  may  add,  in  England  also,  of  what  is 
required  to  constitute  a  great  work  of  art,  and  that,  too,  not  only 
among  the  uneducated  classes,  but  likewise  among  those  of 
greater  culture  and  refinement ;  and  the  evidence  of  it  is  to  be 
found  in  the  high  prices  paid  for,  and  the  high  encomiiuiis  so 
frequently  lavished,  both  by  people  and  press,  upon  produc- 
tions of  inferior  merit,  whilst  those  possessing  far  higher,  though 
less  obtrusive  qualities,  attract  no  purchasers,  and  excite  but  little 
attention.  So  impressed  have  some  of  the  friends  of  art  in  Eng- 
land been  with  this  melancholy  truth,  that  a  society  has  been 
formed  there,  whose  business  it  is  to  diffuse  information,  and 
guide  the  public  judgment  to  a  right  estimate,  and  consequent 
reward  of  true  merit. 

It  has  been  justly  said  that  the  advance  of  art  in  any  coinitrv 
depends  not  more  upon  the  artist  himself  than  upon  those  who 
patronize  him.  "  If  the  patron  have  not  a  high  enlightened 
standard,  the  artist  will  have  a  low  one,  the  demand  regulating 
the  supply  in  this  as  in  other  busmess  transactions.  If  the 
higher  and  more  wealthy  classes  are  enlightened  on  these  sub- 


224  COXCLUSION. 

jects,  the  tone  and  feeling  of  those  who  practise  the  arts  will  be 
raised  to  an  incalculable  extent ;  if  the  reverse  of  this,  they  will 
be  lowered.  Had  Pericles  or  Leo  X,  not  been  familiar  with 
the  processes  and  exigencies  of  art,  the  arts  of  their  re- 
spective ages  would  never  have  risen  to  the  elevation  that  marks 
them." 

It  is  not  alone  among  the  patrons  of  art  and  the  community 
at  large,  however,  that  we  are  to  seek  for  a  drawback  on  its 
advance  ;  another,  no  less  powerful,  presents  itself  in  the  want 
of  education,  thorough  and  profound,  of  the  artist  himself,  and 
especially  in  that  constituent  portion  of  the  art  called  drawing, 
or  design,  in  its  relation  to  the  human  figure ;  and  it  is  much  to 
be  feared  that  the  increasing  appropriation  of  the  daguerreotype 
to  the  purpose  by  artists  has  much  diminished  the  chances  of 
improvement  in  this  respect. 

It  has  always  been  the  case,  both  in  this  country  and  in  Eng- 
land, that  sufficient  attention  has  not  been  given  to  learning  the 
elementary  parts  of  the  arts.  We  begin  to  color  before  we 
can  draw ;  the  consequence  of  which  is,  that  there  are  compar- 
atively few  English  or  American  artists  who  can  delineate  the 
entire  human  form  correctly,  even  when  in  repose,  certainly  not 
when  acted  upon  by  the  affections  and  passions.  There  are,  of 
course,  striking  exceptions  to  this,  but  the  remark,  as  a  general 
thing,  is  correct.  "  Hence  the  multiplicity  of  a  class  of  paint- 
ings where  gradations  and  contrasts  of  color  and  light  and 
shade  pi'oduce  picturesque  effects  that  attract  and  please, 
and,  exhibiting  more  feeling  than  thought,  find  appreciative 
admirers." 

France  and  Germany  have  hitherto  produced  good  draughts- 
men ;  but  we  much  fear  that  even  in  those  countries  there  are 
tokens  of  coming  degeneracy,  —  for  whoever  critically  examines 
their  best  and  most  intricate  compositioiis  will  find  that  they  are 
frequently  but  colored  photographs,  camera  transcripts,  in  which 
the  hand  has  as  little  to  do  as  the  head,  and  the  heart  less,  — 
the  anatomy  of  furniture  and  dress  giving  evidence  of  that 
intense  study  which  the  great  masters  of  the  past  bestowed 
upon  the  anatomy  of  the  human  form,  the  passions,  the  mind 


CONCLUSION.  225 

and  expression.  We  have  recently  heard  it  stated,  but  we  do 
not  vouch  for  its  correctness,  that  even  Messonier,  one  of  the 
most  popular,  as  he  certainly  in  his  department  is  one  of  the 
best,  of  the  many  good  French  artists,  has  employed  the  camera 
as  an  assistant  in  his  labors,  and  hence  the  wonderful  effects  in 
some  of  his  productions.  This,  if  true,  does  not  detract  from 
the  intrinsic  merits  of  his  designs,  .but  it  does  from  the  reputed 
ability  of  the  author.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  we  hear  that 
another  French  artist,  Dore,  still  more  remarkable  as  a  designer 
than  Messonier  (whatever  may  be  his  merits  as  a  colorist),  is  as 
successful  with  the  knife  of  the  surgeon  as  with  the  crayon  of  the 
draughtsman,  having  been  for  a  long  period  a  devoted  student 
and  practitioner  at  the  dissecting-table. 

If  this  be  so,  our  admiration  lessens  as  we  look  upon  the 
efforts  of  the  first ;  but  it  increases,  and  with  it  our  respect,  as 
we  gaze  upon  the  productions  of  the  last. 

With  what  feelings  of  contempt  would  the  Angelos  and  the 
Rapliaels  of  the  past  age  have  looked  upon  the  machine  draw- 
ings of  the  present ;  and  with  what  humiliation  must  those 
artists  who  appropriate  them  as  a  labor-saving  process  look 
upon  themselves  when  they  think  of  the  vast  erudition  of  the 
fiithers  and  great  masters  of  the  art,  many  of  whom  were  the 
most  learned  men  of  the  day,  with  the  most  profound  knowl- 
edge, not  only  of  everything  pertaining  to  their  own  profession, 
but  of  almost  every  other  outside  of  their  art ;  they  were  the 
great  men  of  their  age,  —  men  who  would  have  stood  foremost  in 
any  situation  they  were  called  upon  to  fill,  or  any  profession 
they  chose  to  follow,  or  any  art  they  were  disposed  to  practise,  — 
men  who  did  not  gi'ope  their  way  in  the  dark,  tremblingly  and 
doubtfully,  but  who  went  on  confidently,  saw  the  end  from 
the  beginning,  and  followed  the  best  and  only  road  by  which  to 
reach  it,  —  that  road  which  ever^^  true  artist  must  now  follow 
if  he  would  elevate  himself  and  his  profession  to  the  position  to 
which  both  art  and  artist  are  justly  entitled. 

Excellence  in  art  alwaj^s  implies  labor  in  the  preparation  for 
it ;  and  if  that  labor  is  bestowed  rightly,  there  is  no  reason  why 
we,  with  increased  knowledge  on  the  part  of  both  artist  and 
15 


226  CONCLUSION. 

people,  looking  back  to  the  already  developed  principles  of 
truth,  and  applying  those  truths  to  new  combinations,  may  not, 
in  due  time,  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  our  free  institutions, 
succeed  in  imparting  a  "  fresh  progressive  vitality  to  the  arts 
which  shall  clothe  the  land  with  a  beauty  that  shall  surpass  all 
which  has  gone  before,  and  furnish  means  for  improvement  to 
the  aires  that  shall  succeed  us." 


TERMS   USED   IN   ARCHITECTURE. 


Architrave.  —  The  lowest  division  of  the  entablature,  in  classic  archi- 
tecture, resting  immediately  on  the  abacus,  or  upper  section  of  the  capital. 

Astragal.  —  A  small  semicircular  moulding  or  bead,  sometimes  called* 
a  roundel. 

Baroeboard  or  Vergeboard.  —  A  board  generally  used  on  gables,  where 
the  roof  extends  over  the  wall. 

Bracket.  — A  support  for*shelves,  busts,  etc.,  placed  against  a  wall. 

Buttress.  —  A  projection  running  from  the  ground  to  the  roof,  on  the 
outside  of  a  building,  to  give  additional  strength  to  the  wall. 

Canopy.  — An  ornamental  projection  over  a  door  in  Gothic  architecture. 

Caryatides.  —  A  name  given  to  human  figures  employed,  instead  of 
columns,  to  support  an  entablature,  as  in  the  Erectheum  at  Athens. 

Cavetto.  —  A  concave  moulding  of  one  quarter  of  a  circle. 

Ceiling.  —  The  under  side  of  the  roof  of  a  room. 

Cincture.  —  The  fillet  or  band  at  each  end  of  a  shaft  of  a  classical  col- 
umn, which  is  placed  next  to  the  apophyge. 

Coping.  —  The  covering  course  of  a  wall,  generally  .sloping  to  throw  off" 
the  weather. 

Corbel.  —  A  term  peculiar  to  Gothic  architecture,  denoting  a  projecting 
stone  or  timber  to  support  a  superincumbent  weight. 

Crypt.  — A  cell  under  a  church. 

Cyma.  —  An  undulating  moulding,  of  which  there  are  two  kinds,  one 
called  cyma  recta,  the  other  cyma  reversa,  generally  known  as  the  ogee. 

Dado.  —  The  body  of  a  pedestal,  or  the  square  block  between  the  base 
moulding  and  the  cornice. 

Dentils.  — Small  square  blocks  resembling  teeth,  used  in  Ionic,  Corin- 
thian, and  Composite  cornices. 

DiASTYLE.  —  A  term  employed  to  designate  a  temple  where  the  distance 
between  the  columns  is  equal  to  three  diameters  of  the  shaft. 
Dormer  Window.  — A  y^-indow  with  a  gable  on  a  slojnng  roof. 


228  TERMS   USED   IX   ARCHITECTURE. 

Dripstone.  —  A  water-table  to  conduct  off  the  rain  and  prevent  its  run- 
ning down  the  outer  walls. 

Entablature.  —  The  superstructure  that  lies  horizontally  on  the  col- 
umns in  classic  architecture,  and  is  divided  into  three  parts,  —  the  archi- 
trave, the  frieze,  and  the  cornice. 

EusTYLE.  — -  A  term  employed  to  designate  a  temple  where  the  columns 
are  set  two  and  a  quarter  diameters  apart. 

FAgADE.  —  A  French  term  for  the  exterior  front  of  a  building. 

Fan-tracery. — Vaulting  in  late  "  perpendicular  work  "  in  which  all 
the  ribs,  which  rise  from  the  springing  of  the  vault,  have  the  same  curve 
and  diverge  equally  in  every  direction. 

Fillet.  —  A  small  moulding,  in  the  form  of  a  band. 

FiNiAL.  —  The  bunch  of  foliage  which  terminates  pinnacles,  canopies, 
or  pediments. 

Flamboyant  Style  of  Architecture.  —  A  style  which  takes  its 
name  from  the  flame-like  waving  of  its  tracery,  prevalent  in  France  and 
contemporary  Avith  the  "  perpendicular  style  "  in  England. 

Foil-Arch.  —  An  arch  formed  of  a  series  of  small  arches. 

Foliation.  —  A  series  of  small  arches,  covered  by  a  large  arch  spanning 
the  whole. 

Frieze.  —  The  middle  division  of  an  entablature,  always  plain  in  the 
Tuscan  order  ;  in  the  Doric  it  has  slight  flat  projections  at  intervals,  in 
which  are  cut  three  flutes,  called  triglyphs  ;  the  intervals  between  the 
triglyphs  are  called  metopes,  which  are  enriched  with  figures  or  foliage. 

Gable.  —  A  term  sometimes  employed  to  designate  the  entire  end  of  a 
wall  in  building,  when  the  upper  portion  corresponds  to  the  form  of  the 
roof;  but  properly  it  only  applies  to  that  section  of  it  above  the  cornice. 
The  term  is  not  used  in  classic  architecture,  as  the  ends  of  roofs  when 
made  in  this  way  are  called  pediments. 

Glyph.  —  The  perpendicular  fluting  in  the  Doric  frieze. 

Hood-Mouldings.  —  Dripstones. 

Impost.  —  The  point  of  junction  between  an  arch  and  its  piers. 

Intercolumniation.  —  The  distance  between  two  columns. 

Keystone.  —  The  central  stone  at  the  top  of  an  arch. 

Lintel.  —  A  piece  of  timber  or  stone  placed  horizontally  over  a  door- 
way or  window,  or  other  opening  through  a  Avail,  to  support  a  superin- 
cumbent Avail. 

Loggia.  —  A  covered  space,  the  sides  of  Avliich  are  opened  to  the  air. 

Metopes.  —  The  space  betAveen  the  triglyphs,  on  the  frieze  of  the  Doric 
order. 


TERMS   USED   IN   ARCHITECTURE.  229 

MoDiLLiON.  —  A  projecting  bracket,  under  the  corona  of  the  Corinthian 
and  Composite,  and  sometimes  of  the  Ionic  oith'r. 

Mouldings.  — A  general  term  applied  to  all  mrirfles  of  outline  or  con- 
tour of  the  subordinate  parts  or  features  of  a  buihling,  such  as  cornices, 
capitals,  bases,  door  or  window  jambs.  The  regular  mouldings  in  chissic 
architecture  are  the  fillet,  or  list  ;  the  astragal,  or  bead;  the  cyma  recta 
(a  round  and  a  hollow  undulating  moulding)  ;  the  cyma  reversa  (the  same 
moulding  reversed),  or  ogee  ;  the  cavetto,  or  hollow  ;  the  ovolo,  or  quarter 
round  ;  the  scotia  (a  hollow  moulding)  ;  the  torus,  a  half  round. 

MuLLiON.  —  In  Gothic  architecture  the  slender  pier  or  shaft  that  fomis 
the  division  between  the  lights  of  windows. 

MuTULE.  —  A  slightly  projecting  block  worked  under  the  corona  of  the 
Doric  cornice,  in  the  same  situation  as  the  modillions  in  the  Corinthian 
and  Composite  orders,  usually  having  a  small  number  of  guttre,  or  dro])s, 
worked  on  the  under  side, 

Neck-Moulding.  — The  ring-like  moulding  that  separates  the  capital 
from  the  shaft. 

OcTOSTYLE.  —  A  term  employed  to  designate  a  temple  having  eight 
columns  in  front. 

OniEL.  —  In  Gothic  architecture  a  terra  anciently  applied  to  a  little 
room  at  the  upper  end  of  the  great  hall,  where  stood  a  square  or  round  table. 
At  the  present  day  it  designates  a  recess  and  large  bay-window,  by  which 
it  is  characterized,  and  which  either  rests  upon  the  ground  or  is  supported 
by  a  corbel  or  bracket. 

Pedestal. A  substructure  sometimes  placed  under  columns,  in  classic 

architecture,  and  consisting  of  a  base,  the  dado,  die,  or  shaft,  and  a  cornice 
on  which  rests  the  column. 

Pediment.  —  The  triangular  termination  in  classic  architecture  at  the 
ends  of  buildings,  or  that  portion  formed  by  the  pitch  of  the  roof  above  the 
entablature.  Anciently  it  was  called  the  tympanum.  It  corresponds  to 
the  gable  in  Gothic  architecture.  The  term  is  also  ajjplied  to  small 
gables,  and  triangular  decorations  over  doors,  windows,  and  niches. 

Pendant.  —  A  hanging  ornament  much  used  in  ceilings  and  roofs  in 
Gothic  architecture. 

Penthouse. — An  open  shed  or  covering  over  a  door,  window,  or  flight 
of  steps,  to  protect  it  from  the  weather. 

Peristyle.  —  A  court,  square,  or  cloister  in  classic  architecture,  with  a 
colonnade  around  it ;  also  the  colonnade  itself. 

Piazza.  — An  open  area  or  square  surrounded  with  buildings. 

Pier. — A  wall  between  two  windows  ;  the  two  legs  of  an  arch,  as  in  a 
bridge. 


230  TERMS   USED   IN   ARCHITECTURE. 

Pilaster.  —  A  slightly  elevated  or  raised  column  attached  to  the  walls 
of  a  building,  generally  square,  but  sometimes  round,  forming  the  segment 
of  a  circle. 

Pillar.  —  Same  as  column,  but  now  generally  applied  to  mediaeval 
architecture,  and  some  other  styles,  while  column,  since  the  revival  of 
classic  architecture,  is  wholly  appropriated  to  the  latter. 

Pinnacle.  —  In  mediaeval  architecture  any  small  structure  that  rises 
above  the  roof  of  a  building,  or  that  caps  a  buttress. 

Plinth.  —  A  square  member,  which  forms  the  lower  portion  of  the 
base  of  a  column  ;  also  the  plain  projecting  face  at  the  bottom  of  a  wall. 

Portico.  —  In  its  modern  acceptation,  a  range  of  columns  forming  a 
porch  in  front  of  a  building  ;  that  in  front  is  called  the  pronaps,  by  some 
writers,  to  distinguish  it  from  that  at  the  opposite  end. 

Propyleum.  —  A  portico,  court,  or  vestibule  before  the  gates  of  a  build- 
ing. 

Pseudo-Dipteral.  —  A  term  employed  to  designate  a  temple  having 
columns  all  around,  but  with  those  at  the  sides  attached  to  the  walls. 

Pteronia.  —  The  space  between  the  Avails  of  the  cell  or  body  of  the 
temple  and  the  columns  of  the  peristyle. 

Quadrangle.  — A  square  or  "court  surrounded  by  buildings,  as  in  a 
cloister. 

Quatrefoil.  —  A  term  applied  to  a  small  opening  of  any  shape,  which 
is  feathered  with  four  leaves  or  flowers. 

Quoins.  —  The  external  angle  of  a  building. 

Relief.  —  Projection  given  to  carved  work  which,  when  high,  is  called 
alto-rilievo  ;  when  low,  bas-rilievo. 

Respond.  —  In  medireval  architecture,  a  half  pillar  or  pier,  attached  to 
a  wall,  to  support  an  arch. 

Rose- Window.  —  A  circular  window. 

Rustic  Work. — This  term  is  applied  to  designate  that  portion  of 
masonry  where  the  walls  are  worked  with  grooves  or  channels,  sometimes 
in  the  form  of  a  square  block. 

Section. —  The  representation  of  a  building  cut  in  two  vertically,  to 
show  the  interior. 

Span  of  an  Arch.  —  The  breadth  of  the  opening. 

Spandrel. — A  triangular  space  included  between  the  arch  of  a  door- 
way and  a  rectangle  formed  by  an  outer  moulding  over  it. 

Splay. — The  expansion  given  to  windows  and  doorways  by  slanting 
the  sides. 

Squint.  —  An   opening  through  the  wall   of  a  church,  in   an   oblique 


TERMS  USED  IN  ARCHITECTURE.  231 

direction,  to  enable  persons  in  the  transepts  to  see  the  elevation  of  the 
host. 

SuBBASE.  —  The  upper  moulding,  or  cornice  of  a  pedestal. 

Tracery.  — The  working  of  the  top  part  of  windows  into  several  forms. 

Transept.  —  The  cross  portion  of  a  cathedral  between  the  nave  and 
choir. 

Transom.  —  A  horizontal  mullion  or  cross-bar  of  a  window. 

Trefoil.  — An  ornamental  feathering  or  foliation  in  the  tops  of  win- 
dows, in  Gothic  architecture,  in  wldch  the  space  l^jetween  the  cusps  repre- 
sents the  form  of  a  three-lobed  leaf. 

Triglyph.  —  A  slight  square  elevation  in  the  Doric  frieze,  between  the 
metopes,  with  three  flutings. 

Tudor-Flower.  —  A  flower  placed  upright  on  its  stalks,  in  perpen- 
dicular Gothic  work,  as  crest,  or  ornamental  finishing  on  a  cornice. 

Turret.  —  A  small  tower  or  large  pinnacle,  often  placed  at  the  angles 
of  buildings  to  increase  their  strength. 

Tympanum.  —  The  triangular  space  between  the  horizontal  and  sloping 
cornices  on  the  front  of  a  pediment ;  also  used  to  designate  the  space  be- 
tween the  door  and  the  arch  over  it. 

Vault. — An  arched  ceiling;  when  vaults  intersect  each  other  at  right 
angles,  it  is  called  groining. 

Vignette.  — A  running  ornament,  consisting  of  leaves  and  tendrils, 
frequently  used  in  Gothic  architecture  on  hollow  mouldings  and  casements. 

Volute.  —  A  spiral  scroll,  forming  a  characteristic  of  the  Ionic  capital, 
also  used  in  the  Corinthian  and  composite  orders. 

Water-Table.  —  A  horizontal  set-off  in  a  wall  sloped  at  the  top  to 
throw  off  the  water  from  the  exterior  of  the  building. 


CATALOGUE   OF   WORKS   OF   ART 

TO  WHICH  REFERENCE  IS    MADE    IN  THIS  VOLUME. 


MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

FRESCOS. 

The  Last  Judgment.  The  Deluge. 

Forming  of  the  World  from  Chaos.  Scene  between  Noah  and  his  Sons. 

Creation  of  Adam.  The  Brazen  Serpent. 

Creation  of  Eve.  Mordecai  and  Haman. 

Eating  of  the  Forbidden  Fruit.  Judith  and  Holofernes. 

Expulsion  from  Paradise.  The  Sibyls  and  Prophets. 

OIL    PAINTINGS. 

Raising  of  Lazarus.  The  Battle  of  Pisa. 

The  Dream  of  Human  Life. 


RAPHAEL. 

FRESCOS. 

School  of  Athens.  Defeat  of  Attila. 

Blood-Stained  Wafer.  Rout  of  Maxentius. 

Overthrow  of  Heliodorus.  Deliverance  of  St.  Peter  from  Prison. 

Vision  of  Constantme.  Constantine  receiving  the  Cro\vn 

Burning  of  the  Borgo.  from  the  Pope. 

Dispute  on  the  Sacrament. 

OIL  PAINTINGS. 
Transfiguration.  Madonna  del  Sisto. 

IMadonna  de  la  Seggiola.  Angel  Raphael. 

La  belle  Jardiniere.  Julius  XL 

PAINTED    IN   DISTEMPER. 

Donation  of  the  Keys  to  St.  Peter.  Eljonas  struck  Blind. 

Death  of  Ananias.  The  Beautiful  Gate. 

Miraculous  Draught.  The  Resurrection. 

Sacrifice  at  Lystra.  The  Ascension. 
Paul  at  Athens. 


CATALOGUE   OF  WORKS   OF  AKT. 
CORREGGIO. 

FRESCOS. 

Assumption  of  the  Virgin. 

OIL    rAINTINGS. 

Del  Nottc  (the  Nativity).  Christ's  Agony       the  Garden. 

Reclining,  or  Reading,  Magdalen.         Marriage  of  St.  Catherine. 
Ecce  Homo. 

TITIAN. 


233 


The  Entombment. 

Christ  Scourged. 

Venus. 

Danae. 

Bacchus  and  Ariadne. 


OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Cresar  Borgia. 
Machiavelli. 
Paulo  III.     . 
Peter  jMartyr. 
Bunch  of  Grapes. 


Last  Supper. 

B.attle  of  the  Standard. 


DA  VINCI. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Head  of  Judas. 
Mona  Lisa. 


Marriage  at  Cana. 
Finding  of  Moses. 


PAUL  VERONESE. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Madonna. 
REMBRANDT. 


OIL   PAINTINGS. 

"Woman  accused  in  the  Synagogue.        Nativity. 

Christ  Scourged.  Appearance  to  the  Shepherds. 

Crucifixion. 

ANNABILE  CARACCL 

OIL   PAINTING. 

The  Resurrection. 


TINTORETTO. 

OIL    PAINTING. 

The  Crucifixion. 


234  CATALOGUE   OF   WOEKS    OF  AET. 

CARLO   MARATTI. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Rebecca  at  the  Well.  Madonna  and  Cherubs. 

RUBENS. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Descent  from  the  Cross.  Grotius,    Memmius,    Lepsius,    and 

Fall  of  the  Condemned.  Rubens. 

Gallery  of  the  Luxembourg. 

NICHOLAS   POUSSIK 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

The  Deluge.  The  Finding  of  Moses. 

SCHIDONL 

OIL   PAINTING. 

Charity. 
SALVATOR   ROSA. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

The  Devil  tormenting  St.  Antony.        Landscape,  with  Banditti. 
CLAUDE. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Morning.  Night. 

Noon.  Rustic  Landscape. 

Evening. 

TENIERS. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Rich  :Man  and  Lazarus.  Witch    coming   from    Hell  w-ith   a 

Interior  of  an  Inn.     Smokers.  Lapful  of  Charms. 

VAN  DYCK. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

A  Child. 


CATALOGUE   OF   WORKS   OF   ART. 


235 


Marriage  a  la  Alode. 
Rake's  Progress. 
Industry  and  Idleness. 


GREUZE. 

OIL    TAINTING. 

Cottage  Girl. 
HOGARTH. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Paul  before  Felix. 
Garrick  as  Richard  III. 


SIR  JOSHUA   REYNOLDS. 


Caldron  Scene  in  Macbeth. 
Mrs.  Siddons,  as  Tragic  Muse. 
Banished  Lord. 
General  Eliott  (Lord  Heathfield) 


OIL  PAINTINGS. 

Dr.  Johnson. 

Commodore  Keppel. 

Sterne. 

Female  Portraits. 


SIR  BENJAMIN  WEST. 


Cal}^so. 

Death  upon  the  Pale  Horse. 
Christ  healing  the  Sick. 
Death  of  the  Stag. 
Battle  of  La  Hogue. 


OIL   PAINTINGS. 

The  Institution  of  the  Garter. 
Return  of  Regulus. 
Death  of  Wolfe. 
Christ  before  Pilate. 
The  Last  Supper. 


COPLEY. 


Death  of  Chatham. 


OIL    PAINTING. 

Sortie  from  Gibraltar. 


Battle  of  the  Sabines. 
Coronation  of  Napoleon. 


DAVID. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Assassination  of  Marat  by  Charlotte 

Corday. 
Cain  meditating  the  Death  of  Abel. 


FUSELL 

OIL    PAINTING. 

The  Nightmare. 


236 


Battle  of  Bunker's  Hill. 


CATALOGUE   OF   WOKKS   OF   ART. 
TRUMBULL. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

Death  of  Montgomery. 
SULLY. 


OIL   PAINTING. 

Washington  crossing  the  Delaware. 
DE    LA   ROCHE. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Cromwell  looking  into  the  Coffin  of    Marquis  of  Stafford  led  out  to  Exe- 
Charles  I.  cution. 

GILBERT    STUART   NEWTON. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Lear,  Kent,  and  Cordelia.  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  and  Daughter. 

McHeath  in  Prison.  Shylock  and  Jessie^. 

Falstaff  in  the  Clothes-Basket.  Petrarch  and  Laura. 


Duncan  Gray. 
Pvent-Day. 
Blind  Fiddler. 


Pandemonium. 
Belshazzar's  Feast. 


WILKIE. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Letter  of  Introduction. 
Cut  Finger. 

MARTIN. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Satan  addressing  his  Legions. 
Departure  of  the  Israelites. 


LESLIE. 

OIL   PAINTINGS. 

The  Feast  at  Ford's  House  (Merry    :Mary  Queen  of  Scots  refusing  the 
Wives  of  Windsor).  Crown. 

ALLSTON. 


Titania's  Court. 
Roman  Lady. 


OIL   PAINTINGS. 

Prophet  Jeremiah. 
Jews'  Heads. 


CATALOGUE    OF    WORKS    OF   ART.  237 

DANBY. 

OIL    PAINTING. 

Opening  of  the  Sixth  Seal. 
HAYDON. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

Christ's  Entrance  into  Jerusalem. 
DUBEUF. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

Adam  and  Eve. 
GIRODET. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

The  Deluge. 
BARTLETT. 

WATEPw-COLORED    SKETCHES. 

View  of  New  York.  View  of  a  Gentleman's  Country  Seat. 

CHURCH. 

OIL    PAINTING. 

View  of  Niagara  Falls. 
BIERSTADT. 

OIL   PAINTING. 

Views  in  California. 

ARCHITECTURE. 

Parthenon.  Pantheon. 

Erectheum.  St.  Peters. 

Temple  of  Jupiter  Tonans.  St.  Paul. 

Temple  of  Jupiter  Status.  Obelisk. 

Temple  of  Epliesus.  Pyramid. 

Coliseum.  Monument  of  Lyseerates. 


238  CATALOGUE   OF   AVOKKS    OF   AET. 

Westminster  Abbey.  Eoman  Orders  of  Arcliitecture. 

Greek  Orders  of  Architecture.  Gothic  Windows. 


MODERN   SCULPTURE. 

MICHAEL  ANGELO. 

Moses.  Night. 

Day.  Dead  Christ. 

BALL  HUGHES. 

Uncle  Toby  and  the  Widow  Wadman. 

THOM. 

Tarn  O'Shanter. 

ANTIQUE   SCULPTURE. 

Jupiter  Olympus Phidias. 

Minerva  Athene    : Phidias. 

Bellerephon  and  Pegasus Phidias. 

The  Sculptures  of  the  Parthenon  |      j  /).i 

The  Colossus  of  the  Sun Chares. 

Apollo  Belvedere Uncertain. 

Venus  de  Medici Cleomenes. 

Juno Unknown. 

Cupid  and  Psyche Unknown. 

Hermaphroditus Poltjcletus. 

Ceres  Eleusine Unknown. 

Flora Unknown. 

Reposing  Faun Praxiteles. 

(  Agesander. 

Athenodorus. 

Dying  Gladiator Unknown. 

Ariadne Unknown. 

Lycian  or  Young  Apollo Unknown. 

Discobulus  in  Repose Naucydes. 

Discobulus  in  Action Myron. 

Venus  of  Cnidus Praxiteles. 

Venus  of  Cos Praxiteles. 


Laocoon j  Polydorus. 


CATALOGUE   OF   WORKS   OF   ART.  239 

Dorypliorus,  or  Lance-Bearer Polycletus. 

Hercules  and  Telaplius Unknown. 

Mask  of  Jupiter Phidias. 

Venus  of  the  Capitol Praxiteles. 

Venus  Aphrodita Alcamems. 

i^iobe  and  her  Children Scopus. 

Sacriticator Unknown. 

Eichelieu  Bacchus Unknown. 

The  Hunting  Diana Unknoicn. 

Cupid  bending  his  Bow        Praxiteles. 

The  Muses Unknown. 

Diana  discharging  an  Arrow j  ^ .        "^  ; 

The  Barberini  Faun Unknown. 

Menander Unknown. 

Posidippus Unknown. 

Hercules  Farnese        Glycon. 

Venus  of  Milo Unknown. 

The  Graces Unknown. 

The  Boxers Unknown. 

Sophocles Unknown. 

Demosthenes Unknoicn. 


GEI«fEEAL  IXDEX. 


Addison,  remarks  by,  on  the  inventive 
power  of  man,  48  ;  reflections  by,  on  the 
forms  of  the  arch,  the  dome,  and  the  rain- 
bow, 120. 

Aerial  Perspective,  definition  of,  91 ;  its  op- 
eration in  causing  objects  in  a  painting  to 
appear  near  or  remote,  92  ;  evils  resulting 
from  the  neglect  of,  92. 

Agassiz,  his  theory  of  the  creation  of  man, 
3,4. 

Alison,  his  theory  of  beauty,  5,  6. 

Allegoric  Painting,  description  and  example 
of,  30. 

Allegoric  and  Historic  Painting,  examjDle 
and  description  of,  39,  40. 

Allston,  Washington,  "Court  of  Titania,"' 
by,  50,  51 ;  remarks  by,  on  his  study  of  a 
"  Jew's  Head,"  68  ;  his  paintings  of  "  The 
Prophet  Jeremiah"  and  "  Dante's  Bea- 
trice," 74  :  anecdote  of,  in  connection  with 
the  EngUshl'ioyal  Academy  Exhibition, 103. 

Amazon,  statue  of,  171. 

Andrtirs.  Joseph,  engravings  by,  in  this 
volume :  his  rank  as  a  plate  engraver,  ix. 

Andrew,  John,  wood  engraver;  architec- 
tural engravings  by,  in  this  volume. 

Angels,  composition  of  in  Art,  49. 

Angel  Raplintt,  engraving  of,  by  Raphael, 
description  of,  xxix. 

Apollo  Beli-f^dere  and  Venus  de  Medici,  statues 
of,  172, 173 ;  use  to  be  made  of  them  in 
theor>-  of  personal  beauty,  2,  3 ;  the  ac- 
cepted standard  of  form  and  reasons  why 
so  regarded,  2,  8  ;  objection  to  their  being 
so  regarded,  8,  9,  10;  in  a  certain  sense 
ideal  yet  natural,  8;  types  of  general 
beauty,  11  :  Revnolds's  theory  in  regard  to 
their  beauty,  12  ;  Walker's  theory,  12, 13 ; 
what  much  of  their  beauty  results  from, 
19,  20;  proportions  of,  16;  comparative 
beauty  of,  2(3. 

Apollo,  the  Lycian  statue  of,  176. 

Arrhitectnrf,  introductory  remarks  on,  183; 
the  term  defined,  and  class  of  buildings  to 
which  applied,  183  ;  Egyptian  architecture, 
185;  Grecian,  from  i>age  185  to  206;  Ro- 
man, from  206  to  212;  Gothic,  from  page 
212  to  218  ;  Tudor,  Elizabethan,  and  Louis 
the  Fourteenth  styles ,  from  page  218  to  220 ; 
modern  architecture,  220,  221,  222. 

Ariadne,  statue  of,  176. 

16 


Arts,  division  of,  into  useful  and  fine,  184; 
evils  resulting  therefrom,  185. 

Ascension,  the  cartoon  of  the,  by  Raphael,  59. 

Athens,  The  School  of,  painting  by  Ra- 
phael in  the  Vatican ,  30  ;  its  deficiency  in 
general  light  and  shadow,  80. 

Athens,  the  Acropolis  of,  197, 198, 199. 

B. 

Barberini  Faun,  statue  of,  180. 

Beauty,  Personal,  essay  on,  from  page  1  to 
25  ;  its  principles  little  understood  and 
reasons  why,  1 ;  theory  of,  to  be  presented 
in  this  essay,  '2 ;  various  theories  of  the 
origin  of  man,  4;  various  theories  of  beau- 
ty, 5;  writers  on,  divided  into  classes  and 
the  essential  difference  between  them,  5; 
the  essential  quahty  of  beauty  and  deform- 
ity, 7;  a  standard  of  beauty,  7,  8  :  argu- 
ments for  and  against  one,  8,  9  ;  claim  of 
tlie  Apollo  Belvedere  and  Venus  de  Medici 
to  be  considered  standards,  8  :  objections 
to  such  claim  made  and  answered,  S,  9, 10  ; 
what  the  sculptors  aimed  at  in  those  stat- 
ues, 11 ;  beauty  divided  into  classes,  and 
types  of  each,  11, 12  national  and  family 
peculiarities  of  structure,  10 ;  Reynolds's 
theorj"  of  ideal  beauty,  12;  Walker's  sim- 
plification of  that  theory,  12,  13  :  synopsis 
of  points  considered  in  first  portion  of 
essay  on  beauty,  13,  14;  elements  of 
beauty,  14  ;  proportion,  15, 16  ;  synunetry, 
16,  17;  simplicity,  17;  variety,  18,  19; 
line  of  beauty,  18;  persons  -who  cannot 
be  perfectly  beautiful,  19 ;  at  what  age  the 
most  beautiful,  19;  violent  passion  de- 
structive to  beautj-,  20;  lines  that  char- 
acterize beauty  and  deformity,  20;  the 
most  beautiful  sex,  20;  a  good  complex- 
ion, 20,  21  ;  comparative  beauty  of  the 
Avhite  and  black  races,  21 ;  portion  of  the 
human  fiimily  most  distinguished  for 
beauty,  and  the  reasons  for  it,  22,  2^3; 
great  beauty  sometimes  umler  adverse  cir- 
cumstances, 23,  24;  difference  between 
natural  and  artificial  causes  afl'ecting 
beauty,  24. 

Bell,  Sir  Charles,  surgeon  and  anatomist, 
his  criticism  on  the  tiirur<'  of  I>jizarus,  in 
the  painting  of"  The  l{:ii>ingof  I>:izarus,'' 
which  forms  one  of  the  illustrations  of  this 
volume,  XXX. 


242 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


Bell,  John,  the  great  English  sculptor, 
his  remarks  on  the  figure  of  Lazarus,  xxx. 

Bellerophnn  and  Pegasus,  group  of,  171. 

Borgo,  The  Burning  of  the,  an  illustratiou  of 
dramatic  painting,  35,  36. 

Boxers,  group  of,  181. 

Bramante,  first  architect  of  St.  Peters,  116  ; 
his  advice  to  the  Pope  to  employ  Michael 
Angelo  to  adorn  the  Sistine  Chapel,  116. 

Breadth,  as  an  element  of  the  picturesque, 
78  ■,  why  it  is  always  agreeable,  80  ;  should 
characterize  all  the  constituent  parts  of 
the  arts,  97  ;  one  of  the  characteristics  of 
Michael  Angelo's  style,  121 ;  also  of  Rem- 
brandt's, 78  ,  and  Correggio's,  134:. 

Biionnrotti ,  Michael  Angelo ,i\:ov[i  page  114  to 
122.  His  native  city,  birth,  parentage, 
first  teacher  and  first  patron,  115  ;  his  first 
visit  to  Rome  and  employment  there,  115, 
116;  his  great  cartoon  of  "The  Battle  of 
Pisa"  and  its  influence  on  art,  115;  his 
return  to  Florence,  and  employment  by 
the  city,  115,  116 ;  his  second  visit  to 
Rome  and  the  object  of  it,  116  ;  builds  the 
dome  of  St.  Peters,  116;  paints  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  116,  117 ;  his  ignorance,  at  that 
time,  of  painting,  117  ;  paints  but  few  pic- 
tures in  oil,  117;  the  prominent  features 
of  his  system,  118  ;  what  is  required  for  a 
full  appi-eciation  of  him,  119  analysis  of 
the  features  of  his  system,  118,  119,  120, 
121 ;  his  sj-stem  of  design  objected  to  and 
those  objections  considered,  122;  impres- 
sions made  by  his  works,  122. 

Burial-places  of  the  five  great  masters,  133. 

Burke,  Edmund,  reported  reason  for  his  fail- 
ing to  impress  the  House  of  Commons  on 
the  trial  of  \\'arreu  Hastings,  100  ;  his  re- 
marks on  lines  characteristic  of  idiocy, 
19,  20. 

Byron,  Lord,  stanza  by,  on  Greece,  139 ; 
hues  by,  on  the  Dying  Gladiator,  175. 


Cnracci,  The,  found  the  second  Bologna  or 
eclectic  school,  135, 

Cartoons,  The.  The  term  defined,  40  ;  what 
paintings  the  term  "  the  cartoons  "  desig- 
nates, and  by  whom  and  for  what  purpose 
painted,  40  ;  their  numbers,  subjects,  and 
great  excellence,  40. 

Catalogue  of  paintings  criticised  or  simply 
referred  to  in  this  volume,  also  of  works 
of  sculpture  and  architecture,  232. 

Ceres  Ehusine,  statue  of,  described,  174 

Chatham,  Lord.  The  painting  of  "  the  death 
of,"  by  Copley,  an  illustration  of  historical 
painting,  37,  38,  39. 

Chiaro-Osr.uro,  essay  on,  from  page  75  to  87  ; 
the  term  defined,  and  its  uses  pointed 
out,  75  ;  the  influences  of  light  and  dark- 
ness both  in  the  natural  world  and  tlie 
world  of  art,  75,  76;  how  the  mind  gets 
to  be  impressed  with  the  ideas  of  near- 
ness, distance,  and  space,  in  both  nature 
and  ai't,  77  particular  light  and  shadow, 
78 ;  general  light  and  shadow,  and  their 
value  in  producing  breadth  and  pictu- 
resque effect ,  78  ;  paintings  illustrating  the 
value  of  a  general  light  and  shade,  78, 
79 ;  not  always  best  to  represent  objects 


vrith  the  lights  and  shades  under  which 
we  view  them ,  80 ;  nor  enough  that  the 
lights  and  shadows  in  a  painting  are 
ti-ue,  80,  81 ;  a  selected  light  and  shade,  its 
superiority,  81 ,  curious  means  sometimes 
adopted  to  justify  it,  81 ;  a  general  hght 
and  shadow  not  destructive  of  the  par- 
ticular light  and  shadow  of  objects ,  81 ; 
nor  does  it  reject  contrasts,  81 ;  place  for 
the  highest  and  principal  light  in  a  paint- 
ing, 82 ;  comparative  size  and  number  of 
lights  and  their  relation  to  each  other,  82  , 
correspondence  between  the  chiaro-oscuro 
and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject,  and  ex- 
amples of,  83,  84 ;  difficult  to  adjust  a  se- 
lected light  and  shadow,  83  ;  an  invented 
or  selected  light  and  shadow  a  compara- 
tively new  invention,  85 ;  by  whom  first 
employed  for  breadth  and  picturesque  ef- 
fect, 85  ;  by  whom  extended,  86;  Michael 
Angelo"s  and  Raphael's  chiaro-oscuro,  85, 
86 ;  Correggio's  and  Rembrandt's  chiaro- 
oscuro  compared,  86 ;  remarkable  effects  of 
it  in  the  works  of  the  latter,  87. 

Christ  scourged,  painting  by  Titian,  artful 
arrangement  of  the  colors  in,  90,  91. 

Cimabue,  one  of  the  early  painters  and 
founders  of  the  art,  135. 

Circassians,  remarkable  for  beauty,  and 
reasons  for  it,  22,  23. 

Coliseum,  its  architectural  features,  a  type 
of  the  Roman  style,  209. 

Colossus  of  the  Sun,  statue  of  the,  172. 

Color,  essay  on,  from  page  88  to  110; 
its  rank  and  importance  as  a  constitu- 
ent portion  of  painting,  88 ;  terms  em- 
ployed in  discourses  on,  89,  90  ;  peculiar 
influences  of  different  colors,  90  ;  the  dis- 
position of  them  as  regulated  by  those 
influences,  90 ;  exceptional  emplqjment 
of  them,  90,  91;  evil  arising  from  a  neg- 
lect of  the  law  of  influences,  91  ;  as 
affected  by  the  highest  light  and  deepest 
shadow,  92  ;  harmony  of  colors,  how  pro- 
duced, 92,  93,  94;  breadth  of  color,  how 
prod  need,  94, 95, 96 ;  great  value  of  breadth , 
95,  96,  97  ;  continuity  of,  96,  97 ;  corre- 
spondence between  the  hues  employed  and 
the  sentiment  of  the  subject,  97,  98,  99  ; 
analogv  between  language,  music,  and 
color,  99,  100;  the  eye  governed  by  the 
same  law  as  the  ear,  101 ;  evils  resulting 
from  neglect  of  a  correspondence  between 
color  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject, 
101 ;  popular  errors  in  regai'd  to  what  con- 
stitutes good  coloring,  102;  too  great  re- 
lief, 102 ;  glare,  its  cause  and  defects,  103  ; 
high  finish,  mistaken  notions  regarding  it, 
104,  105,  106  three  different  modes  of 
coloring,  104  ;  the  best  method,  105;  the 
different  styles  of  the  five  great  masters, 
105,106,107;  Newton  as  a  colorist,  107, 
108;  why  Reynolds  failed  to  discover 
Titian's  mode  of  coloring,  108, 109;  where 
it  is  to  be  found,  110. 

Columbus  discovers  America,  but  does  not 
give  it  a  name,  147,  148. 

Complexion,  color  of  the  most  beautiful, 
21  ;  why  the  white  race  is  more  beautiful 
than  the  black  and  I'ed,  21. 

Com/)fl$ile  Order,  description  of,  206,  207  ; 
Friarfs  remarks  on,  207. 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


243 


Composition ,  essay  on ,  from  page  54  to  61 ; 
the  term  defined  and  illustrated,  54,  55 ; 
under  what  heads  tc  be  considered,  54  ; 
the  first  object  aiuu-d  at  in  a  couiposi- 
tiou,  54;  inherent  beauty  of  lines,  64; 
every  portion  of  a  composition  more  or 
less  characterized  by  variety,  55;  this 
variety  to  be  restricted  and  regulated  by 
the  sentiment  of  the  subject,  yti ;  exam- 
ples illustrating  this  in  the  old  Greek 
sculptures,  5(5;  established  principles  of 
expression  in  man  affecting  composi- 
tion, 57;  these  natural  ]>rinciples  recog- 
nized in  the  works  of  Raphael,  57  ;  ex- 
amples where  those  principles  are  neglected 
and  evils  resulting  therefrom,  58  ;  the  two 
lost  cartoons,  "  The  Resurrection  '■  and 
"  The  Ascension,"  remarkable  examples  of 
a  correspondence  between  tlie  composition 
of  the  picture  and  tho  sentiment  of  the 
subject,  58,  59  ;  "  The  Marriage  at  Cana," 
bv  I'aul  Veronese,  a  striking  exception  to 
it,  59,  60;  how  Raphael  and  Da  Vinci 
would  have  treated  it,  60. 

Co}ni'ro7)iist,  the  point  of  excellence,  where 
found.  23. 

Condu.sion,  from  page  223  to  226. 

Con^niity,  the  laws  of,  11,  15. 

Conslitiient  Fortions  of  Painting,  their  num- 
ber and  names,  44. 

Copley,  his  painting  of  "The  Death  of 
Chatham,"  37,  38;  his  high  rank  as  a 
painter  and  thorough-bred  gentleman, 
38,  39. 

Corinthian  Order,  description  of,  190,  191; 
by  whom  invented,  200;  compared  with 
the  Doric,  201. 

Corres,gio,  from  page  132  to  136;  but  little 
known  of  his  early  history,  132  ;  his  life 
where  chiefly  passed,  132,  133;  his  igno- 
ran«e  of  contemporary  painters  of  emi- 
nence, 133:  his  birth,  marriage,  death, 
and  place  of  burial,  133  ;  characteristics 
of  his  style,  134,  135  :  what  he  did  for  the 
growth  of  art,  134  ;  in  what  his  superiority 
consists,  134  ;  compared  with  Rembrandt, 
86,  87. 

Ciipi'J  bending  his  Bon',  statue  of,  179. 

Cupi'J  and  Piycke,  group  of,  173. 


Dnnne,  painting  of,  by  Titian,  120. 

Dnnby,  English  painter,  an  imitator  in 
some  respects  of  Martin,  but  much  his 
superior,  79. 

Danvin,  his  theory  of  the  creation  of 
man,  4. 

Dai-id,  head  of  the  affected  school  of 
painting  under  the  Empire,  from  page  1.57 
to  162;  by  svhat  i)aintings  once  known  in 
the  United  .'States,  1.57  ;  exaggeni ted  char- 
acter of  his  compositions,  158 ;  their  evil 
effect  on  taste,  158 ;  whence  this  exagger- 
ated style  originated,  158  ;  certain  estab- 
lished modes  of  expression  implanted  in 
man  at  creation,  1.58;  these  always  to  be 
imitated  in  art,  1,58;  not  imitated  by  the 
school  of  David ,  158  ;  reasons  why  the  art 
of  that  school  pleased  the  French,  159; 
the  object  of  high  art,  159  ;  the  permanent 


g«>neral  principles  of  exiiression  always 
characterized  tho  great  Italian  masters, 
and  also  the  sculptors  of  ancient  (Jreere, 
as  aLsQ  hU  works  fif  genius,  1.09 ;  ixntrait 
of  a  child  in  the  Louvre  by  Van  Dyck,  15i) ; 
also  in  the  Louvre,  two  pmntings  of  "  The 
Deluge,"  one  by  Poussin,  the  other  by 
Oirodet,  160;  these  i)aintings  compared 
by  Mrs.  Jame.son,  16(1 ;  painters  of  this 
period  who  did  not  follow  in  the  tra<k  of 
David,  1(51 ;  early 'French  painters  of  emi- 
nence, 161  ;  the  inited  States  once  deluged 
with  paintings  from  the  school  of  David, 
161;  evils  resulting  therefrom,  1(52  ;  the 
benefit  of  studying  the  old  Italian  masters, 
also  the  sculptures  of  ancient  Greece, 
162. 

Da  Vinci,  Leonardo,  from  page  110  to  114  ; 
favorable  conditicm  of  the  world  at  the 
time  of  his  appearance,  110 :  best  kno-.vn 
by  his  painting  of  "  The  Last  Supper,'  his 
birth,  parentage,  and  first  teacher,  112; 
one  of  the  fathers  and  founders  of  the  art, 
113 ;  pointed  out  the  way  to  nmst  of  the 
subsequent  improvements  in  science  and 
art,  113  ;  his  skill  <is  a  designer,  113  ;  com- 
pared with  Michael  Angelo,  113 :  indebted- 
ness to  liim  of  some  of  the  great  masters, 
113 ;  the  first  to  employ  a  general  light 
and  shade,  113 ;  state  of  the  art  before 
this  invention,  113;  prepares  the  way  for 
the  coming  of  Michael  Angelo,  114 ;  his 
death  and  place  of  burial,  1-33. 

Decorated  ,*ityle  of  Gothic  Architecture, 
wherein  it  ditfers  from  the  Early  Eng- 
lish and  Perpendicular  styles,  216.  217. 

Dffdalus,  early  Greek  sculptor  of  celebrity, 
163. 

Delphi,  the  temple  of,  197. 

Del  Pwniho,  Sehnstiano,  paints  Michael 
Angelo's  great  design  of  "  The  Riiising  of 
Lazarus,"  91,92. 

Demosthenes,  statue  of,  181. 

Design,  essay  on,  from  page  62  to  74;  val- 
ue of  design  as  compared  with  other  con- 
stituent portions  of  painting,  62;  course 
usually  pursued  by  artists  iu  construct- 
ing a  picture,  62,  63;  to  be  considered 
under  two  heads,  62 ;  what  is  required 
in  a  good  portrait,  63 ;  use  and  misuse 
of  the  model,  63;  examples  illusti-ating 
the  misuse  of  it,  from  ancient  and  mod- 
ern art,  63,  64,  65,  66,  67;  evils  resulting 
fi-om  such  misuse,  67  ;  the  proper  use  of 
the  model  jxiinted  out  by  Mr.  Allston, 
68;  also  exemplified  in  works  of  Raphael, 
68,  69  ;  object  aimed  at  by  Raphael  in  the 
representation  of"  The  Madonna,  "and  by 
Da  Vinci  in  "  The  Last  Supper,"  and  how 
far  they  accomplished  it,  69 ;  painters  of 
history  governed  by  the  same  laws  that 
govern  the  writers  of  it,  69;  parallel  be- 
tween historical  and  dramatic  representa- 
tions, 70;  the  argument  equally  valid, 
whether  it  be  the  portraiture  of  a  fact,  or 
only  the  sentiment  of  a  trans;tcti(m  or 
event  that  is  intended  to  be  represented, 
70;  rules  deducible  from  the  argument 
applicable  to  every  cla.ss  of  jtainting,  70, 
71 ;  correct  design  one  of  the  greatest  dif- 
ficulties of  the  art,  71;  small  advance  in, 
until     the   fourteenth   century,   72:    Ma- 


244 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


saccio's  design,  72 ;  by  whom  correct  design 
was  begun  and  by  whom  brought  to  per- 
fection, 72;  Michael  Angelo's  design,  72; 
Raphael's  design,  72;  Da  Vinci's  design, 
72;  Titian's  design,  73;  Correggio's  design, 
72 ;  perfection  of  design  where  found,  73  ; 
advantages  arising  from  studying  the 
Grecian  sculptures,  73 ;  the  study  of  them 
neglected    by   the    Dutch,   Flemish,   and 

■  Venetian  masters,  73.;  much  studied  by 
Poussin,  73 ;  Raphael's  "Gardening  Girl  "  ; 
Allston's  "  Beatrice  "  and  "  Prophet  Jere- 
miah," 74. 

Devil,  painting  of  the,  by  Salvator  Rosa ; 
Agassiz's  remarks  on  the  composition  of, 
48. 

Diana,  The  Hunting,  statue  of,  179. 

Different  Classes  of  Painting,  from  page 
25  to  43;  tlie  names  of,  25;  the  corre- 
spondence between,  and  the  same  classes 
in  literature,  26;  maimer  in  which  the 
different  classes  affect  the  spectator,  42, 
43. 

Discohulus,  statue  of,  176. 

Domenichino,  "  The  Evangelists  "  by,  com- 
pared with  those  by  M.  Angelo,  58. 

Donation  of  the  Keys  to  St.  Peter,  cartoon 
of,  by  Raphael,  45  ;  a  painting  without  a 
subject,  45. 

Doric  Or/'ifr,  constituent  portions  of  it,  188, 
189;  wherein  the  Grecian  Doric  differs 
from  the  Roman,  189  ;  the  national  order, 
194;  forms  of  Doric  temples,  195;  union 
of  the  three  arts,  195  ;  comparison  be- 
tween, and  Corinthian  order,  201 ;  the 
uses  to  which  Doric  temples  were  appropri- 
ated, and  the  reasons  for  such  appropria- 
tion ,  194  ;  the  finest  specimen  of  this  order 
in  Greece,  197. 

Doryphorus ;  or,  the  Lance-Barer,  statue  of, 
177. 

Dramatic  Painting  defined  and  illustrated, 
35,  36  ;  its  universality,  36  ;  makes  its  ap- 
peal to  human  feelings  and  sentiments, 
36  ;  its  effect  upon  the  spectator,  36  ;  who 
most  excelled  in  it  and  the  title  it  gave 
him.  36. 

Dubeiif,  "  Adam  and  Eve  "  painted  by,  66. 

Dutch  Painters,  their  style  of  design  and 
misuse  of  the  model,  63,  64  ;  on  what  the 
beauty  of  their  paintings  is  largely  depend- 
ent, 79. 

Dying  Gladiator,  statue  of,  175. 


Early  English  Style  of  Gothic  Architecture, 
215. 

Egyptian  Architecture,  characteristics  of, 
185  ;  its  grandeur,  to  what  owing,  203, 204. 

Elements  of  Beauty,  from  page  14  to  page 
18. 

Elizabethan  Style  of  Gothic  Architecture  de- 
sci'ibed,  and  wlierein  it  differs  from  the 
Tudor  style,  219. 

Eliott,  General  (Lord  Ileathfield),  portrait 
of,  37 ;  contrasted  with  portrait  of  Com- 
modore Keppel,  149,  150. 

Emerson,  Hon.  George  B.,  his  letter  of  rec- 
ommendation, i. 

English  School  of  Painting,  essay  on,  from 
page  137  to  157  ;  the  natural  school,  rea- 


son why  so  designated,  137 ;  few  native 
artists  in  England  prior  to  Hogarth,  138  ; 
reasons  for  it,  139, 140  ;  Hogarth's  first  ap- 
pearance, 140  ;  contemporaries  of  Hogarth, 
140  ;  Pre-Raphaelite  school,  its  character- 
istics, claim  to  excellence  and  its  defects^ 
141.  142, 143.  See  Hogarth,  Wilkie,  Rey- 
nolds, West. 

Epic  Painting,  parallel  between,  and  Epic 
poetry,  33;  example  of,  in  the  Sistine 
Chapel,  33;  the  story  told  by  that  great 
series  of  epic  designs,  as  read  by  Fuseli, 
34 ;  by  whom  invented,  and  the  title  it 
gave  the  inventor,  34. 

Epic  Poetry,  characteristics  of,  31;  illus- 
trated by  the  Iliad,  32,  33. 

Erectheum,  temple  on  the  Acropolis  of 
Athens,  197. 

Expression,  lines  characteristic  of  the  most 
beautiful,  18,  19,  20  ;  lines  characteristic 
of  evil  passions  and  deformity ,  20. 

Eye  governed  by  the  same  laws  as  the 
ear,  101. 


Fairies,  desci-iption  of,  50,  51 ;  "  Titania's 
Court,"  painting  by  Allston,  51. 

Falstaff,  Sir  John,  reasons  why  not  consid- 
ered handsome,  19. 

Faun  Reposing,  l74. 

Fitness  not  an  element  of  beauty,  6 ;  in- 
creases our  admiration,  but  forms  no  part 
of  that  to  which  we  apply  the  epithet 
"  beautiful,"  6. 

Flemish  Painters,  to  what  much  of  the 
beauty  of  their  paintings  is  owing,  79  ; 
their  neglect  of  appropriate  design,  or 
wrong  u.'-e  of  the  model,  64;  compared 
with  Hogarth  and  Wilkie,  147. 

Flora,  statue  of,  174.  ■  • 

For7n ,  what  is  required  to  constitute  a  stand- 
ard of,  2 ;  the  Apollo  Belvedere  and  Ve- 
nus de  Medici  so  considered,  2 ;  standard 
of,  7,  8  ;  arguments  in  favor  of  a  standard, 
8  ;  what  ancient  Greek  statues  regarded  as 
standards,  8. 

French  Art ,  from  page  157  to  162.   See  Da  rid. 

French  Gothic,  its  peculiar  characteristic 
as  distinguished  from  EngUsh  Gothic ,  220  ; 
the  Mansard  roof,  220. 

Fresco  Painting,  description  of,  143 ;  but 
httle  practised  at  present,  143. 

Friart,  Sir  Roland,  his  quaint  description 
of  the  several  orders  of  architecture,  191, 
192,  207. 

Fuseli,  Professor  of  Painting,  at  the  Eng- 
lish Royal  Academy,  under  West,  29  ;  his 
remarks  on  portraiture,  30  ;  description  of 
allegoric  painting,  30,  31 ;  his  description 
and  illustration  of  epic  painting,  32,  33; 
his  reading  of  the  story  told  by  Michael 
Angelo's  series  of  epic  designs  in  the  Sis- 
tine  Chapel,  33,  34  ;  his  painting  of"  The 
Nightmare,"  48,  49. 


Gannett,  Rev.  George,  letter  from,  recom- 
mending this  volume,  ii. 

General  Light  and  Shadoiv,  by  whom  first 
employed  for  picturesque  effect,  85  j  ex- 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


245 


amples  illustrative  of  its  great  value,  79, 

80,  81. 

Giro'/ft,  French  painter  of  the  David  school, 
1GC> ;  his  picture  of  "  The  Deluge  "  com- 
pared with  the  painting  of  "  The  Deluge  '' 
by  Poussin,  IGU. 

Girl  "  who  never  told  her  love,"  reasons 
why  it  is  not  a  subject  for  pictorial  repre- 
sentation, 46. 

Glare  not  u  characteristic  of  good  coloring, 
103;  the  evils  n  suiting  therefrom,  104 

Gothic  Architecture,  from  page  212  to  220; 
engraving  of  windows  illustrating  the  dif 
ferent  styles  of  described,  xxxii ;  whence  it 
got  its  name,  212 ;  one  of  tiie  two  typical 
styles,  213,  parallel  between,  and  classic 
architecture,  213,  214  ;  Early  English  style 
of,  215  ;  Decorated  style,  216  ;  Peri>endicu- 
lar  style,  217;  Tudor  style,  218;  Elizabe- 
than style,  219;  Louis  the  Fourteenth 
style,  220. 

Grace,  line  of,  18  ;  definition  of,  23. 

Graces,  group  of,  181. 

Grapes,  engraving  of,  described,  xxxi ;  Ti- 
tian's model  for  light  and  shadow,  78,  80, 

81,  82. 

Grecian  Sculpture,  from  page  163  to  183; 
perfection  of,  163  ;  chief  events  atfecting  it, 
163, 164  ;  favorable  condition  of  things  at 
the  time  of  Phidias's  appearance,  165 ; 
contemporaries  of  Phidias,  165;  the  form 
of  the  gods  determined  by  Phidias,  166; 
those  forms  influenced  by  the  Grecian  my- 
thology, 166  ;  completeness  not  reached  at 
once,  167 ;  the  first  object  aimed  at  in 
Grecian  sculpture,  167  ;  the  second  object 
aimed  at,  168 ;  other  classes  of  beings  be- 
sides the  human  and  divine  to  be  repre- 
sented, 168 ;  obliged  to  rely  upon  history 
for  our  knowledge  of  most  of  their  sculp- 
tured creations,  169. 

Greece,  important  events  in  the  early  his- 
tory of,  163. 

Grotesque  Painting  described  and  illus- 
traled,  26. 

H. 

Handel  anri  Hay  fin,  a  cultivated  taste  ne- 
cessary for  a  full  appreciation  of  their  pro- 
ductions, 119. 

Harmony  of  Colors,  various  methods  in 
producing  it,  92;   Mr.  West's  theory  of, 

92  ;  as  affected  by  reflection  and  refraction, 

93  94. 

Heath  field.  Lord.     See  Eliott. 

Hercules  Farnese,  statue  of,  described,  180. 

Hercules  and  Ajax,  group  of,  178- 

Hirniaphroditus,  statue  of,  174. 

Hish  Finish,  as  generally  understood,  a 
great  defect  in  coloring,  104. 

Hillard,  Hon.  George  S.,  letter  of  recom- 
mendation from,  i;  his  high  rank  as  a 
critic  on  art,  31. 

Hipparchus  founds  a  public  library  at  Ath- 
ens, and  collects  and  places  therein  the 
works  of  Homer,  164,  165 

Historical  Painting,  illustrated  by  paint- 
ing of  "  The  Death  of  Chatham,"  37,  38 ; 
paintings  entitled  to  be  called  "historical,- ' 
39 

Historic  and  Allegoric  Painting  described 
and  illustrated,  39,  40. 


Historic  and  Dramatic  Painting  described 
and  illustrated,  40,  41,  42. 

Historical  Landscape  described  and  illus- 
trated, 28. 

Hislonrai  Portraiture  described  and  illus- 
trated, 39. 

Hogarth,  his  first  appearance.  140  ;  different 
opinions  resi»ecting  bis  merits  a^  an  artist, 
1*3;  what  is  claimed  for  him  over  otiier 
English  painters,  143;  invents  a  new 
branch  of  art,  143  ,  a  genius  in  the  higlie-t 
signification  of  the  term,  143;  what  he 
aimed  at  and  what  he  accomplished,  141 ; 
not  successful  as  an  historical  painter,  144 ; 
his  paintings  of  "  Garriik,  as  Richard 
III.,"  and 'Paul  before  Felix,"' 144;  not 
to  be  judged  by  the  same  law  as  the 
Italian  masters,  144:  wherein  he  differed 
from  the  Italian  painters,  144 ;  the  national 
painter  of  Great  BritJiin,  145;  like  Wilkie, 
not  local  in  his  delineations,  146;  reason 
why  not  local,  147 ;  sujx'i-ior  to  Wilkie, 
147 ;  in  what  they  both  differed  from  the 
Dutch  and  Flemish  masters,  and  in  what 
they  resembled  each  other,  147  ;  in  what 
they  were  superior  to  the  Dutch  and 
Flemings,  147  ;  Hogarth  sujierior  to  Wilkie, 
147  ;  Wilkie's  indebtedness  to  him,  148. 

Holbein,  his  appearance  in  England,  219  ; 
his  influence  on  the  Tudor  style  of  archK 
tecture,  219. 

Holofernes,  painting  of  "  the  death  of,"'  by 
Allori,  51;  painting  of  the  same  subject 
by  William  West,  51 ;  parallel  between, 
and  in  some  respects  superiority  of  the 
latter,  51,  52. 

I. 

Iliad,  criticism  on,  by  Fuseli,  -32,  .33 ;  the 
hero  of,  and  what  the  author  designed  him 
to  be,  12 ;  its  influence  on  heathen  my- 
thology audits  sculptured  representiitions, 
165;  studied  by  Phidias,  also  by  the 
dramatists  and  philosophers  of  Greece, 
165. 

Invention,  essay  on,  from  page  44  to  54;  its 
rank,  44  ;  examples  of  the  highest  exercise 
of  it,  44:  importance  of  having  a  subject 
for  painting,  45 ;  a  painting  without  a 
subject,  45 ;  what  is  required  in  every 
complete  work  of  art,  46,  sources  from 
which  the  old  Italian  paintei-s  derived 
their  subjects,  47 ;  sources  whence  the 
moderns  derive  theirs,  47;  a  great  change, 
and  what  it  indicates,  47  ;  paintings  whose 
subjects  are  not  derived  from  a  written 
record,  but  invented,  48;  paintings  in 
which  both  subject  and  forms  are  invented 
or  original,  48  ;  new  combinations  of  old 
materials,  48;  Mr.  Addison's  remarks  on 
the  inventive  faculty  in  art,  48 ;  pictorial 
representitions  of  angels,  God,  sibyls, 
fairies,  and  witches,  49,  paintings  whose 
subjects  are  not  invented  or  derived,  but 
only  hinted  by  an  author,  50,  51 ;  imint 
of  time  ma<!t  fitting  for  rei)resentation,and 
examples  illustrating  it,  51,  52  ;  events  of 
different  jwriods  not  to  be  represented  on 
the  same  canvas,  52.53,  a  notable  otTence 
against  this  re<iuirement,53,  "  Tlie  Trans- 
figuration," 53. 


246 


GENERAL  INDEX. 


Ionic  Order,  constituent  portions  of,  de- 
scribed, 189,  190;  most  noted  temples  of 
this  order,  199,  200  ;  quaint  description  of. 
by  Sir  Roland  Friart,  191. 


Jameson,  Mrs.,  her  humorous  description  of 
the  two  paintings  of  '*  The  Deluge,''  160. 

Juno,  statue  of,  173;  inferior  to  the  Venus 
de  Medici,  173. 

Jupiter,  Mask  of,  178. 

Jupiter  Olympus,  the  form  of,  determined 
by  Phidias,  165  ;  what  Greek  divinities  most 
resemble  him ,  166  ;  description  of,  169 ,170. 

K. 

Keppel,  Commodore,  portrait  of,  compared 
with  the  portrait  of  Lord  Heathfield,  both 
by  Reynolds,  149, 150. 


La  Belle  Jardiniire,  Madonna  so  called,  by 
Raphael,  68,  74. 

Lamb,  Charles,  his  remarks  on  the  figure 
of  Lazarus,  XXX ;  remarks  by,  on  Titian's 
"  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,"  95. 

Language,  when  most  perfect,  99;  analogy 
between,  and  color,  99;  different  tones 
employed  to  express  different  passions  and 
sentiments,  100;  three  divisions  of  the 
human  voice,  100. 

Landscape,  different  classes  of,  26 ;  first 
class  the  transcript  of  a  given  spot  or 
view,  26;  second  class,  ideal  or  classic 
landscape,  27  ;  method  pursued  by  artists 
in  gathering  materials  for,  27,  28  ;  histori- 
cal landscapes ,  28  ;  landscapes  in  which 
the  figures  are  the  least  important  part  of 
the  composition,  28  ;  landscapes  in  which 
the  figures  are  the  most  important  part, 
28  ;  difficulty  in  combining  landscape  and 
figures,  29 ;  third  class  of  landscape,  29. 

Laocoun  and  his  Sons,  group  of,  described, 
175. 

Lazarus,  the  painting  of  "  the  death  of," 
described,  xxix  ;  defective  coloring  of,  91. 

Leslie,  Charles  R.,  professor  of  the  Royal 
English  Academy  ;  his  painting  of  "  The 
Dinuerat  Ford's  House,"  50,51 ;  the  friend 
of  Ining,  Allston,  and  Newton,  107; 
quoted,  150. 

Light  and  Shadoic.     See  Chiaro-Oscmo. 

Linear  Perspective  defined,  91. 

Lines,  influence  of,  204. 

Lothrop,  Rei-.  Dr.,  letter  from.reconmiend- 
ing  this  volume,  ii 

Louvre,  paintings  in,  159, 160. 

M. 

Macaiday,  English  essayist,  quoted,  12. 

Madonnas,  princij^les  on  which  painted, 
57  ;  exanipli's  illustrating  the  rule,  and 
examjilcs  in  which  it  was  neglected,  and  the 
evils  resulting  therefrom,  58  ;  what  Raphael 
aimed  at  in  the  representation  of  the 
Madonna,  68,  69. 

Marriage  at  Cnna,  by  whom  painted,  and 
description  of,  60 ;  object  aimed  at  by  the 


painter  of,  and  in  what  respect  a  splendid 
failure,  61. 

Martin,  English  painter,  what  his  paint- 
ings were  remarkable  for,  and  in  what  re- 
spects deficient,  79. 

Masaccio,  a  great  painter  for  the  age  he 
lived  in,  135. 

Menander,  statue  of,  180. 

Michael  Angela.     See  Buonarotti. 

Milo,  Venus  of,  a  representation  of  vital 
beauty,  11,  12. 

Milton,  analysis  of  his  character  by  Ma- 
caulay,  12. 

Minerva  Athene,  statue  of,  170. 

Model,  use  and  misuse  of  the.      See  Design. 

Modern  Architecture,  some  remarks  on, 220. 

Moses,  statue  of,  by  Michael  Augelo,  5, 121. 

Mouldings,  their  great  value  in  giving 
beauty,  6;  their  number,  names,  descrip- 
tion of,  and  appropriation  in  classic  archi- 
tecture, 187, 188. 

Muses,  group  of,  186. 

Music,  analogy  between,  and  color,  99; 
Gardner's  "  Music  of  Nature,"  100  ;  gov- 
erned by  the  same  laws  as  painting,  101. 

Mythology,  Grecian,  wherein  it  differed 
from  that  of  other  heathen  nations,  and  its 
effects  upon  sculpture,  166. 


N. 


Napoleon,  painting  in  France  in  the  reign 
of     See  David. 

Neicton,  G.  Stuart,  his  great  merits  as  a 
painter,  and  liis  death,  107, 108. 

Nightmare,  painting  by  Fuseli,  its  original- 
ity, 48. 

Niobe  and  her  Children,  group  of,  178. 


Old  Masters,  characteristics  of  some  of  the 
most  distinguished,  137  ;  benefit  in  study- 
ing them,  162. 

Orders  of  Architecture,  descriptions  of  engrav- 
ings of,  xxxii ;  Grecian  described,  188  to 
192;  Roman,  206,  207. 


P. 

Painting,  essays  on,  from  page  25  to  163. 
Pan ,  inventor  of  music,  44 
Pantheon,  Roman  temple,  description  of,  209. 
Paradise  Lost,  quoted  from,  xxix. 
Parthenon,   Grecian   temple,   197,  198,  221; 

sculptures  of,  198  ;  its   present  condition, 

199  ;  comparative  size  of,  200 
Passions,  natural  mode  of  expressing  them, 

57,  158  ;  violent,  fatal  to  human  beauty, 

20  ;  lines  characteristic  of,  20  ;  lines  that 

characterize  the  expression  of  the  gentler 

passions  and  affections,  20. 
Peabody,  Rev.  Dr.  Andrew  P,  recommenda- 

torv  letter  from,  i. 
Pericles,   adorner   of  Athens,   186;    patron 

of  Phidias,  197  ;  his  intimate  acquaintance 

with  and  fine  taste  in  art,  224. 
Perkins,  C.  C,  his  work  on  Tuscan  Art, 205. 
Phidias,    his   first    appearance,    164 ;    fixes 

the  forms  of  the  Greek  divinities,  165  :  his 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


247 


inilebttHlncss  to  Homer,  165 ;  contempora- 
ries of  aud  fellow-workers,  1*50 ;  sculptures 
by,  ICO,  170,  171,  198. 

Picture,  the  first  object  in  painting  to 
make  one,  142. 

Pictiirtsque,  a  quality  or  element  of  the 
beautiful,  55,  142. 

Poets,  the  early  English,  importance  of  the 
study  of,  l!>2. 

Portico  of  the  Parthenon,  its  great  beauty, 
201 ;  of  the  London  University ,  204  ;  of  the 
Pantheon.  209 

Portraiture,  its  rank  in  painting,  and  exam- 
ples of  the  highest  class  of,  29,  30  ;  his- 
torical portraiture,  37,  38;  Reynolds's  por- 
traits, 149,  150,  151. 

Posi'/ippu.s,  statue  of,  180. 

Poussin,  Nicholas,  his  painting  of  "  The 
Deluge,"-  29,  IGO,"'  his  style  of  design,  65, 
73,  74. 

Pre-Rajihaelite,  modern  school  of  painting, 
104,  141,  142,  143. 

Proportion  an  element  of  beauty,  14;  good 
proportion,  15;  difference  of,  in  the  two 
sexes,  16. 

Propylceujn,  temple  of,  197. 


Raphael,  from  page  122  to  127 ;  his  par- 
entage, birth,  and  early  education,  122 ; 
his  first  Ti.*it  to  Florence,  employment 
there  and  return  to  Perugia,  123  ;  some  of 
his  best  paintings  where  found,  123,  124  , 
his  second  visit  to  Florence,  and  for  what 
purpose,  124 ;  his  first  visit  to  Home,  124  ; 
paintings  by,  in  the  Vatican,  and  subjects 
of  them,  124,  125  ;  appointed  architect  of 
St.  Peters,  125:  "The  Transfiguration,"' 
125;  his  death  and  burial,  125,126;  the 
number  of  his  productions,  126  ;  compared 
with  Michael  Angelo,  126,  127 ;  in  what 
superior  to  all  other  artists,  126,  127  :  im- 
pression made  by  his  works  on  tlie  spec- 
tator, 36, 122, 126  :  his  style  of  design,  72, 
74  ;  his  chiaro-oscuro,  86. 

Relief,  attractive  to  the  young  and  ignorant, 
but  not  a  good  quality  in  art,  102. 

Renihranilt,  his  misuse  of  the  model,  64; 
his  painting  of  "  The  AVoman  accused 
in  the  Synagogue,"'  78,  80,  81  ;  his 
"  Ecce  Homo,""  "Appearance  to  the  Shep- 
herds,"' 84;  comi)ari  on  between,  and 
Correggio,  86,  87  ;  his  chiaro-o-curo,  87  ;  a 
wonderful  genius,  87  ;  his  "  BcLshazziir"s 
Feast,"'  99. 

Resurrection,  cartoon  of  the,  by  Raphael, 
58.  59. 

Reynolfis,  Sir  Joshua,  from  page  148  to 
152 ;  not  verj'  successful  as  an  historical 
painter.  148  ;  his  portraits  of  Mrs.  Siddons, 
Lord  Ileathfield,  and  Commodore  Keppel, 
149  ;  parallel  between,  149,  150  ;  his  great 
success  in  painting  females  and  children, 
150,  151 ;  his  coloring,  151 ;  comparison 
between,  and  Sir  Thoma.s  Lawrence,  151 ; 
his  remarks  on  color,  103, 104,  105  ;  his  en- 
deavor to  find  out  Titian's  mode  of  color- 
ing, 109. 

R-c'irlieu  Bacchus,  statue  of,  179. 

Roman  Architecture,  from  page  206  to  211 ; 


Tuscan  and  Comj)osito  orders  ;  wherein  it 
ditTers  from  (ireek  architecture,  2(16;  in- 
troduction of  the  arch,  206.  its  indebted- 
ness to  Ureek  architeeture,  207,208;  the 
Romans  borrowed,  but  could  not  ada)»t, 
209;  Roman  temples,  208,209;  Pantheon 
and  Coliseum,  209,  210;  little  invention 
in,  210;  wherein  it  differs  from  (irecian 
architecture  in  its  effect  on  the  spectator, 
210. 

Romano,  Giulio,h\ii  rank  as  an  artist,  11; 
his  principal  characteristic,  137;  finishes 
"  The  Transfiguration,'"  after  the  decea.se 
ot  Rtiphael,  126. 

Rome,  Ancient,  the  conclusion  of  the  old 
civilization  and  the  commencement  of  the 
new,  211. 

Romeo  and  Juliet,  apothecary  in,  19. 

Rubt-ns,  his  misuse  of  the  model  in  hi.s 
historic  designs,  64  ;  his  "  Descent  from  the 
Cross  "  and  "  Fall  of  the  Damned,"  98. 


Sacrificator,  statue  of,  179. 

Snlvator  Rosa,  his  tliorough  manner  of 
treating  a  subject,  101. 

Samson,  some  remarks  on  his  structure, 
19. 

Schools  of  Art,  the  four  principal,  135. 

Sculpture,  from  page  163  to  182 ;  as  affect-- 
ed  by  certain  events  in  the  early  history 
of  Greece,  164  ;  as  influenced  by  the  my- 
thology of  Greece,  166 ;  principles  that 
governed  the  Greek  sculptors,  and  what 
they  aimed  at,  167,  168;  progressive  ad- 
vance in,  towards  perfection,  167;  sub- 
jects of  Greek  sculptures,  168  ;  great  num- 
ber of  Grecian  statues,  182  ;  small  number 
of  those  that  have-  come  down  to  the 
present  period ,  182. 

Shakespeare  portrayed  man  in  general,  159. 

Simplicity  one  of  the  elements  of  beauty, 
14, 15  ;  the  basis  of  grandeur,  106. 

Sistine  Chapel,  frescoes  in,  by  Michael  An- 
gelo, 33. 

Sophocles,  statue  of,  181. 

Sully,  Thomas,  his  high  rank  as  a  painter 
and  a  gentleman,  107  ;  anecdote  by,  of  Sir 
Benjamin  West,  107. 

Sym))ietry  an  element  of  beauty,  and  why 
it  gives  plea-sure,  16,  17. 


T. 


Temple  of  Ephesus,  description  of,  200. 

Theseus,  temple  of,  199. 

Tintoritto,  "The  Crucifixion"'  by,  its 
wonderful  effect,  99. 

Titian,  from  page  128  to  132;  his  birth,  na- 
tive city,  and  first  teticher,  128;  from 
whom  he  deriveil  some  hints  for  his  style 
of  coloring,  129 ,  the  universal  homage 
paid  him,  129;  the  great  number  of  his 
productions,  and  names  of  some  of  the 
most  celebmted,  129;  chanicter  of  tlie 
works  painted  by  him,  130  ;  Michael  .\n- 
gelo"s  opinion  of  his  design,  1.30  ;  his  prin- 
cipal characteristics,  130  ;  what  he  did  to 
advance  the  art,  130,  131  ;  his  great  Jige 
and  death,  131:  burial,  133. 


248 


GENERAL   INDEX. 


Titian's  wife,  head  of,  an  illustration,  de- 
scribed, XXX. 

Tn}u,  definition  of  the  term,  89;  how 
produced,  93. 

Trnn-i/iguration,  The,  last  work  by  Raphael, 
52;  an  alleged  defect  in  the  composition 
of,  53. 

TiirJor  Style  of  Architecture,  principal  fea- 
tures of,  118, 119. 


Useful  Arts,  as  contrasted  with  those  called 
"  Fine,"  184. 

Utility  not  an  element  of  beauty,  and  rea- 
sons why,  6  ;  our  admiration  increased  by 
it,  but  it  constitutes  no  portion  of  that  to 
which  we  apply  the  epithet  "  beautiful,"  6. 


V. 


Va7i  Dyck,  his  visit  to  England,  and  high 
rank  as  a  portrait-painter,  138  ;  examples 
illustrative  of  it,  30, 159. 

Variety,  an  element  of  the  beautiful,  17 ; 
the  degree  of  it  in  any  composition  by 
what  regulated,  18;  characterizes  certain 
forms  in  art,  20. 

Vatican,  frescos  in,  by  Michael  Angelo, 
83,  36, 117. 

Venetian  Painters,  some  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished among  them,  128  ;  their  misuse 
of  the  model,  73  ;  their  chiaro-oscuro,  86  ; 
their  neglect  generally  of  a  correspondence 
between  and  the  sentiment  of  the  subject, 
99  ;  one  remarkable  exception,  99. 

Venus  Aphrodita,  statue  of,  178. 


Venus  of  the  Capitol,  178. 
Ve7iiis  of  Cniihis,  177. 
Venus  of  Cos,  177. 
Venus  of  the  Forum. 
Vtnus  fie  Medici,  178. 

Veronese,  Paul,  his  painting  of  "  The  Mar- 
riage at  Cana,"  60,  128. 


W. 


West,  Sir  Benjamin,  his  vast  popularity  at 
one  period,  152 ;  much  depressed  now  in 
public  estimation,  152  ;  his  parentage,  and 
native  city,  152  ;  President  of  the  English 
Royal  Academy,  and  contemporary  of 
David,  152;  reason  why  he  should  be 
admired  in  the  United  States ,  152 ;  by 
what  paintings  known  in  the  United 
States,  153;  his  merits  and  demerits,  153  ; 
reasons  why  oveiTated  at  one  time,  and 
now  underrated  as  an  artist,  154, 155,  156 ; 
Lawrence's  opinion  of  his  scriptural  efforts , 
as  compared  with  productions  of  a  similar 
character  in  modern  art,  156;  the  high 
character  of  his  efforts  on  vmscriptural 
themes,  "  The  Death  of  Wolfe  "'  "  The 
Battle  of  La  Hogue,"  "  The  Death  of  the 
Stag,"  "  The  Institution  of  the  Garter," 
"The  Calypso,"  "The  Return  of  Regulus," 
156  ;  in  view  of  all  the  circumstances,  hopes 
that  he  will  some  time  or  other  be  more  ap- 
preciated as  a  great  artist,  157 

West,  William,  his  painting  of  the  death  of 
Holofernes,  51,  52. 

Wilkie,  Sir  David.  See  Hogarth,  and  first 
part  of  essay  on  English  Art. 

Woman  and  her  Accuser,  Tlie  description  of 
the  engraving  of,  xxxi. 


'UHI7BRSIT) 


THE  END. 


Cambridge  :  Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


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